


Draw Me in Like Gravity

by bigbabyjeno



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blowjobs, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, Weird flirting, kind of, pitch perfect...ish, rival music groups, this is hard to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-14 17:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbabyjeno/pseuds/bigbabyjeno
Summary: “You know Jaehyun would never spy on us, right?” Ten asks, eyeing Doyoung out of the corner of his eye as they trudge up the stairs to their floor.Doyoung chooses not to answer. It’s the principal of the matter, really. He can’t even really recall how the rivalry started, he just knows that it persists and he cannot let it die, even if Jaehyun, too nice for his own good, refuses to participate.At the start of every year, Doyoung sets some ground rules for his group. Obviously he can’t tell people who they can and can’t be friends with, but no matter how close some of his members are with them, rule number one is no Acafellas in the practice room. Rule number two is, as long as you’re part of the group, you cannot date an Acafella. Personally, Doyoung can’t see why anyone would want to willingly pair themselves with someone who chose to join a group called theAcafellas, but to each his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY so this was inspired by part of an anonymous prompt from the dojae fic fest a couple of months ago, but it changed and grew and kind of turned into a weird version of a Pitch Perfect AU, just with a different pairing, I guess? I was really afraid to write this for a while, even though I could see it so clearly in my head, because the thought of writing Doyoung is vaguely terrifying, but the plot wouldn't go away and I kept thinking up entire scenes and I just had to go ahead and write it.
> 
> I was going to wait and post it all as a one-shot, but I got impatient, so!! Here are the first few scenes, I'm sorry. I've read over this about 80 times because of how nervous I am, but it is unbetaed, so any mistakes are my own. I hope you guys like it and that it's not TOO ridiculous, or if it is, that it's ridiculous in a good way!

“Okay, from the top.”

Doyoung raises his hand, pitch pipe at the ready, but before he can set it, Donghyuck asks, “How do we know no other team chose the same song? It’s pretty popular.”

“Because we had to submit a request, and I made sure I was first. As soon as I heard about the competition -“

“Concert,” Ten mumbles from his left, but Doyoung ignores him. Any event where more than one music group performs is a competition, in Doyoung’s  _ correct _ opinion.

“As soon as I heard about it,” he presses on, “I knew exactly which song we had to sing. This song is perfect for us, as a vocals-focused group, and for the show. Now,” he says, turning to scowl at Ten, “from the top.”

It’s rough. Everyone knows the original version of the song, but no one has memorized their parts in the arrangement yet, so Doyoung sends them off in groups based on position so they can practice separately before coming together for one more run-through. He watches as Jaemin, Jeno, and Ten slip out the practice room door to head for their favorite nook at the end of the hall, a hollow that used to house a water fountain but is now just empty space barely wide enough for the three of them to cram themselves into. Their heads are already bent over the papers Doyoung had given them and they’re whispering inaudibly amongst themselves. 

In an effort to round out the group’s sound (and absolutely nothing to do with the  _ other _ group and their sound, no matter what Ten says), Doyoung and the established members had chosen some new recruits for their beatboxing skills. They don’t have much to do for this particular song, but they still need to learn the rest of the group’s repertoire, so he passes them a sheaf of papers and a camera with recordings of past performances so they can get used to their arrangements. The four of them huddle in a corner of the practice room, papers spread out on the floor and the camera propped up between them so they can start studying.

Doyoung stays behind with the main vocals for this performance, the scribbled-on sheet music he had used to rearrange the song clutched in his hand. The three of them sit on the benches lining the back of the room and look up at Doyoung, waiting for instruction.

“Okay,” Doyoung sighs, taking a moment to settle on the floor, papers resting on his lap. “I rearranged the song with you in mind, but I think we need to change one of the notes toward the end, you know the one. In the original, it’s only a beat longer and sung in a lower register, but I think if Taeil or Donghyuck take it, they can raise the pitch and stretch the note out for impact. Let’s practice it both ways and decide who should take that part.”

They run through it a handful of times, each one of them trying it out, before they settle on Donghyuck taking the note and Yuta coming in at the end for a harmony and transition to the next note. Satisfied, Doyoung leaves them to continue practicing so he can go check on the others. 

The beatboxing team is diligently monitoring past performances, ad-libbing different riffs and making notes on the papers when they find something they like. They beam up at Doyoung when he gives them an approving nod and pats on the shoulder. Leaving them to continue their work, Doyoung heads for the nook at the end of the hall, feeling great about their progress and the new additions to their group. His mood plummets immediately as he rounds the corner, though, and spots a lanky body crouched on the floor in front of the nook, a familiar head of dusty brown hair bent over the phone clutched in Ten’s hand. Doyoung can hear four different giggles coming from the nook and irritation pulses in his temples. He slows his footsteps and closes his eyes, tries to modulate his breathing and calm his suddenly racing heart, but he knows his annoyance is written across his face when Jeno looks up and spots him, and he doesn’t care. He wants to them - wants the  _ intruder _ \- to know that he’s not pleased at the invasion.

“Doyoungie,” Ten says brightly, ignoring the expression on Doyoung’s face and holding up his phone. “We were watching performances and practicing your arrangement, I think we’ve really got it now. Jaehyun just stopped by to say hi, he was showing us the song they chose for the concert.”

Doyoung’s curiosity is immediately piqued at the mention of the other group’s song choice, but he refuses to show it. He is not going to socialize with the enemy any longer than he needs to, and he would rather die than have Jaehyun think he’s actually interested in anything he and his group do. “That’s great,” he says cooly. “We need to continue practicing.”

Jaehyun just smiles easily at Doyoung’s pointed look, and it only serves to infuriate Doyoung even more. He’s just always so  _ nice _ . It’s annoying. 

Doyoung watches, arms crossed over his chest, as Jaehyun ruffles Jeno and Jaemin’s hair and makes plans to see Ten later, then clambers to his feet.

“Bye, guys, good luck,” Jaehyun wishes them. Then, with a smile and a wave, he’s gone.

Staring after Jaehyun’s retreating back, Doyoung asks, “Why was he here? Their practice room isn’t even in this building.”

“The university moved them here last week, I told you this the day it happened,” Ten explains, shaking his head. “One day you’ll actually start listening to me. Their new room is like three doors down from ours.”

Great. Doyoung closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel a migraine coming on, and it’s distinctly Jaehyun-induced. He  _ really _ hates that other group. He can’t even bring himself to say their group name, it’s so dumb. He knows Jaehyun didn’t choose it, only inherited from previous leaders, but it’s dumb and it suits him and Doyoung hates it. Blowing out a long, slow breath, Doyoung tries the calming breaths Taeil had taught him. They never work, but he tries them anyway, just in case one day they actually do. It makes Taeil smile when he sees him doing it, too, and Doyoung likes making his friends smile, even when he’s pissed off.

“Okay, whatever, let’s go back to the practice room. I want to do one more run-through before we stop for tonight.”

 

The last practice goes better than the first one had, but Doyoung is still unsettled by the news about the Acafellas practice room being moved. Deep down, he knows Jaehyun would never spy on them, doesn’t really have a reason to, considering how different their groups are, but his competitive nature means he’s annoyed by the fact that, if Jaehyun _did_ want to spy on them, the university just made it easier for him.

“You know Jaehyun would never spy on us, right?” Ten asks, eyeing Doyoung out of the corner of his eye as they trudge up the stairs to their floor.

Doyoung chooses not to answer. It’s the principal of the matter, really. The Acafellas -  _ ugh _ , even thinking the name makes Doyoung want to gag - are the enemy, no matter how friendly their leader might be.

He can’t even really recall how the rivalry started, he just knows that it persists and he cannot let it die, even if Jaehyun, too nice for his own good, refuses to participate. (Claiming he doesn’t remember is a lie. Doyoung is too petty to have forgotten how, two years prior, while he and Jaehyun were both serving as vice presidents of their respective groups, Jaehyun had beat him to sign-ups for the start of the year showcase by a mere  _ three minutes _ and had stolen the song Doyoung had chosen. Of course, he hadn’t known Doyoung wanted that song, but he still got it first and it infuriates Doyoung to this day. Obviously.)

At the start of every year, Doyoung sets some ground rules for his group. Obviously he can’t tell people who they can and can’t be friends with, but no matter how close some of his members are with them, rule number one is no Acafellas in the practice room. The nook is close enough to count as an extension of the room, and Ten knows that, but he also knows Doyoung would never really get angry at him, so he breaks that rule anyway. Rule number two is, as long as you’re part of the group, you cannot date an Acafella. Personally, Doyoung can’t see why anyone would want to willingly pair themselves with someone who chose to join a group called the  _ Acafellas _ , but to each his own. (Ten thinks he hasn’t noticed the flirty eyes he’s been making at the current Acafellas vice president, Johnny, but Doyoung prides himself on how perceptive he is. He’s keeping tabs. Not in a creepy way, just in a ‘monitoring his members and the sanity of his best friend’ kind of way.)

The rest of the rules have to do with being on time for practice and missing meetings, but the most important ones are rules one and two. So far, he’s only had to kick one person out of his group in three years, and he wasn’t really that great anyway.

Doyoung and Ten turn off the third floor landing and start down the hall. Doyoung sighs when Ten stops at room 307 to write something on the little dry erase board hanging on the door, tries not to watch as he scrawls the message in barely legible handwriting.  _ Jaehyunnieeee, sorry about earlier. Lunch tomorrow? Text me. - 10 _

Sicheng is already home when Doyoung opens the door to their suite, curled up in a corner of the couch with his phone pressed to his ear and Yuta’s head in his lap. 

“We brought dinner,” Ten announces quietly, holding up a bag. Sicheng gives them a thumbs up, then settles his hand back in Yuta’s hair.

It’s a bizarre coincidence that, in a suite full of his own members and with thousands of other students to choose from, the university ended up placing one of Jaehyun’s with them. Doyoung would be suspicious, but he knows that the housing department doesn’t know and could not care less about petty campus music group rivalries. Sicheng would be an excellent spy, though, if Jaehyun had needed to choose one from his group. He’s so quiet and so easily immersed in his studies or the dramas he likes to watch, Doyoung sometimes forgets he’s even there, especially when Yuta isn’t around to draw attention to him or force him to put his books down for a while.

Setting the bag of take away down on the kitchen table, Doyoung points toward one of the closed doors, whispers to Ten, “I’m going to wash up, then I’ll get Taeil. You set up.”

At Ten’s nod, Doyoung slips into his room and shuts the door behind himself. He likes their little suite, is grateful that the others let him have the tiny private bedroom. It’s just big enough for a lofted bed with a desk underneath it, a bureau, and two doors on the interior wall, one leading to a small bathroom, and the other to an even smaller closet. He even has a window that opens to the courtyard at the center of the block of dorms. It’s rare to find privacy like this when living on a university campus, Doyoung knows, and he tries to show his appreciation to his suitemates as often as possible.

Like by buying them dinner and renting the movie Yuta has been talking about nonstop for two weeks. Humming part of their song for the winter concert, Doyoung hangs his coat up and washes his hands, then crosses the suite to knock on the door to Ten and Taeil’s room. Taeil is stretched out on his bed reading a passage in one of his textbooks when Doyoung pokes his head in and asks, “Dinner and a movie?”

“Oh, thank god,” Taeil sighs, slamming his textbook shut. “I don’t know how many more descriptions of mineral lusters I could have taken.”

The five of them squeeze around their small coffee table, three on the couch and two on the floor, and pass around Thai takeout as they watch what might actually be one of the most confusing movies Doyoung has ever had to suffer through. Yuta loves it though, has to be reminded to eat every few minutes as he sits there, eyes wide and mouth agape, one anxious hand gripping Sicheng’s knee, and that’s enough for Doyoung. 

;;

Doyoung is late. He’s late to class and he  _ despises _ being late, but he had fallen asleep at his desk while working on a new song last night and his phone had died, so he had missed his alarm and now he is horribly late, and only weeks before finals. Not wanting to be disrespectful, Doyoung climbs the stairs to the back entrance of the lecture hall, rather than enter through the ground floor doors and sit in the front row, like he normally does.

Panting and sweating a little from his dash across campus, he drops into the first open seat he spots, trying not to make too much noise as he wrestles his laptop out of his bag and sheds his jacket. He needs to catch up, though, he can’t afford to miss material this close to exams. As much as Doyoung prides himself on his intelligence, this particular course has been kicking his ass, even with the weekly tutorials, and he needs every bit of help he can get.

“Oh, hey. I never thought I’d see you back here,” someone to Doyoung’s left says, and Doyoung freezes, one hand still stuck in the bunched-up sleeve of his jacket. Oh, no. He knows that voice.

Doyoung closes his eyes and prays to every deity he can think of that there just happens to be another person at this university with the same slow, friendly lilt before he turns his head, but. No such luck. 

“Jaehyun,” he says flatly. “What are you doing in this class?”

Jaehyun just furrows his brow and explains with a confused smile, “I’ve been in this class all semester.”

“That’s not -” Doyoung cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh. He hadn’t known that, but that’s not his point. “I mean  _ why _ are you in this class?”

Jaehyun says his next sentence very slowly, like he’s speaking to a small child who might not understand him. “Doyoung, I’m an engineering major. Just like you.” Puzzled, he says, “I’ve mentioned this at least a dozen times, I’ve even offered to study with you...”

Doyoung’s brain fizzles into white noise. How had he not known this? Not that he would have taken Jaehyun up on his offer, but at least he wouldn’t have been blindsided like this. He stares blankly at Jaehyun for a minute before the professor’s voice starts to filter back in and then he shakes himself, annoyance back with vigor. “Whatever,” he snaps, “Please don’t talk to me, I need to pay attention. I’m barely hanging onto a B in this class.”

“I could help you,” Jaehyun offers tentatively, gazing calmly back when Doyoung levels him with a look. “I have an 98 in the class.”

Alarm bells go off in Doyoung’s head, his pride waging a brief war with his desire to secure an ‘A’.

Shit. 

Defeated, Doyoung closes his eyes and silently mourns the loss of his personal morals. When he opens his eyes again, Jaehyun is staring at him curiously, but the confusion on his face quickly shifts to a beaming smile when Doyoung reluctantly mumbles, “Fine. But we have to study in your room, and don’t tell anyone. I don’t want my group knowing I’m working with you.”

“You’re really weird,” Jaehyun responds, but he sounds more amused than anything.

Doyoung ignores the comment. “Eight o’clock tonight?”

“Nine, I’ve got rehearsals.”

“ _ Ugh _ , fine. Don’t be late, I despise lateness.”

Jaehyun just snorts at that and looks pointedly at where Doyoung is sitting, then at the front of the room and the empty seat right in the center of the first row. Affronted, Doyoung just huffs and turns to face the professor, ignoring Jaehyun’s presence for the rest of the class.

;;

Doyoung hates himself for what he’s about to do. He had  _ lied _ to Ten about going to a tutorial and is currently huddled against the door to Jaehyun’s room, hood pulled over his head and face buried in the small gap between the door frame and the door itself in case anyone passes by before Jaehyun opens the door. No one does, though, because most of his fellow students are either at dinner or out doing productive things, like going to  _ actual _ tutorials or locking themselves in one of the library study rooms with enormous cups of coffee and heaps of protein bars.

Anxious, Doyoung taps insistently on Jaehyun’s door with his fingernails, desperate to be out of the hallway and out of sight of potential witnesses. Too wrapped up in his thoughts, Doyoung doesn’t hear footsteps approaching and the door opens so unexpectedly that Doyoung nearly falls right into Jaehyun, has to catch himself by grabbing onto the door jamb. He manages to save himself, barely, but Jaehyun throws a hand out anyway and grabs his hip, and Doyoung tenses up at the unwelcome touch. He knows he should probably say thank you, since he was just trying to do something nice, but the words stick in his throat. 

“Are you okay there?” Jaehyun asks, hand still on Doyoung’s hip.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles fighting off an embarrassed blush. He forces out something that vaguely resembles a thanks, then, shaking off Jaehyun’s hand, he slides into the room and shuts the door, locks it for good measure.

Jaehyun just watches him, amused, as he slouches into the center of the room and pulls the hood of his sweater back, shakes out his hair. 

“I only have like an hour,” Doyoung warns. “Ten gets suspicious.”

Jaehyun just shrugs amiably and points to a small refrigerator tucked under his desk that Doyoung knows is contraband, asks, “Do you want something to drink? I have water, chocolate milk, banana milk, and orange juice. And if you’re hungry, I have chips and cookies.”

Of course Jaehyun would be a good host. Doyoung sighs. “Water, please,” he mumbles.

He looks around the room while Jaehyun grabs a couple of bottles from the fridge. It’s only slightly larger than Doyoung’s room, with a low bed and nightstand, a chest of drawers just like his, and a large desk with a hutch that Doyoung is immensely jealous of. The room is homey. It’s lit by a few lamps rather than the harsh overhead fluorescents, and the walls are plastered with posters for movies Doyoung remembers enjoying and dozens of pictures of Jaehyun with his university friends and several people he presumes are Jaehyun’s relatives. The curtains framing the window are a dark blue to go with the constellation-patterned duvet on Jaehyun’s bed, and the window sill is home to three potted plants that, to Doyoung’s untrained eye, look very happy to be there.

It’s a tidy, charming room and Doyoung is immediately uneasy, though he can’t pinpoint why. He takes the water Jaehyun offers him with a polite thank you, then asks, “So... where should I sit?”

“I only have one chair, but we could both sit on my bed?”

Doyoung frowns. Maybe this was a bad idea. There aren’t any other options, though, and he’s not sitting on the floor, so he sets his backpack at the foot of the bed, toes off his shoes, and tucks himself as close to the edge of the bed as he can, leaving most of it to Jaehyun in the hope that he won’t sit too close. Thankfully, Jaehyun leaves enough space between them for a textbook and his laptop, already open to the notes he’s taken for the course.

“Okay,” Jaehyun nods, positioning himself against the wall so he can see the screen of Doyoung’s laptop where it’s perched across his lap. “Where do you want to start?”

Only mildly embarrassed, Doyoung admits, “The beginning.” Jaehyun looks at him in surprise, but Doyoung just scrunches his nose and whines, “I don’t know why I have to take fluid dynamics, anyway. I want to be a civil engineer, I don’t want to... build rooftop swimming pools or work on pipelines, why do I need to know this stuff?”

Jaehyun just shrugs and reasons, “I guess they just want us to know a little bit about a lot of things so we can keep our options open.”

“Well, I hate it,” Doyoung grumbles, and Jaehyun laughs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Okay, so let’s start with the properties of fluids.” He scoots in just a little bit closer, so that they can comfortably see both of their laptop screens, and starts to explain.

They sit like that for nearly two hours, hunched over the textbook between them as Jaehyun points to different figures and explains things better and in more detail than the professor ever had. By the time Doyoung leaves, he’s added three extra pages of explanations to his existing notes and he actually feels like he understands at least the first chapter now. He pauses in the doorway to Jaehyun’s room, back facing the hall again, just in case, and says, somewhat reluctantly, “Thank you. That really helped.”

The smile that spreads across Jaehyun’s face is pleased and a little bit bashful. “I’m glad I could help. Same time tomorrow? We can get through chapter 2, maybe even chapter 3.”

Tomorrow is Friday, but all Doyoung has scheduled is a bar night with this suitemates, and this is more important.  At least then he knows the boys will be off campus and won’t catch him entering or leaving Jaehyun’s room. Pressing his lips together, he nods.

“I’m not ruining your Friday night out on the town?” he asks, not really concerned with the answer. It feels like the right thing to say, though, considering how much Jaehyun is helping him. God, he hates small talk, especially small talk with  _ Jaehyun _ . Help from the enemy. He’s sunk to new lows. Ten can never find out, or he’ll tease him about it for the rest of their lives.

“Not at all,” Jaehyun reassures him. “This just gives me the excuse I need to ditch Johnny, he wants to meet up with -“ Jaehyun cuts himself off, eyes wide, and Doyoung is immediately suspicious. “Anyway, my friends will all be fine without me. We can order a pizza or something.”

Discomfort churns in Doyoung’s stomach. He loves pizza and he wants Jaehyun’s help, but he doesn’t want Jaehyun to think they’re  _ friends _ or anything. His overwhelming need to show his appreciation always wins out, though, so he agrees anyway and insists on paying for the pizza himself. By the time he leaves, he has a headache from all of the conflicting emotions building up in his system.

The hallway is blissfully empty as Doyoung shuffles back to his room, and as he unlocks the door, he prays that his suitemates have all gone to sleep so he doesn’t have to come up with any more lies. To his dismay, the door opens to reveal Ten sprawled across the couch, face lit up by the television screen as he watches a rerun of that evening’s M!Countdown. His eyes flick to Doyoung as he enters the suite, and he asks, “How was the tutorial?”

“Great,” Doyoung says, as casually as he can muster. Head pounding, he tries to stick to half-truths that won’t possibly get him in trouble down the line, if this whole... situation is exposed. “This tutor is really good at explaining things. Kind of annoying otherwise, though,” he can’t help but tack on. Ten doesn’t catch it, thankfully, distracted momentarily by something on the TV screen. “I, um. Have to go back tomorrow night, sorry. You should still go out, though.”

Ten’s brow furrows in confusion. “You have to go to a tutorial on a Friday night?”

Uneasy about lying, Doyoung shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot. “The tutor is making an exception for me, since it’s so close to finals. I really need an ‘A’ in this class.”

Ten just stares at him for a moment, then nods, like that makes total sense. “Yeah, of course. No problem. I think one of my, uh. Friends from my program is going out, anyway, I can just hang out with him. We’ll go out Saturday night instead, just the two of us.”

Relief floods Doyoung’s chest and he nods enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Perfect. Sounds great.” Still babbling, he inches toward his room, desperate to escape before Ten can ask anymore questions. “Well, I’m beat. See you tomorrow, sleep well!”

Doyoung only allows himself to breathe once he’s shut his bedroom door and flipped the lock. Shaking his head, he starts across his room, shedding his clothes that already smell of Jaehyun’s room as he goes so he can start getting ready for bed. One night of this and he’s already a paranoid mess, how is he going to keep this up until finals?

;;

Friday night starts out along the same lines as the previous night. Doyoung slinks down the hall and into Jaehyun’s room, face hidden by his hood and an oversized scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth as people from his floor straggle out of their rooms and toward the staircase in rowdy groups. He knows he looks ridiculous, but there are too many people out and about to risk going scarf-less. Jaehyun is his usual disconcertingly friendly self, offering drinks and snacks that Doyoung politely refuses. He sits carefully apart from Jaehyun on the bed and dutifully writes down what Jaehyun tells him to, nodding along as he slowly begins to understand the material. 

It doesn’t take them long to finish chapter two, then Doyoung orders a pizza to be delivered to their dorm. It isn’t until he hangs up that he realizes delivery means picking the pizza up from the front door. He frowns down at his phone, contemplating cancelling the order and making it up to Jaehyun some other time. A time that doesn’t involve peers potentially seeing him and realizing he’s fraternizing with the enemy. Preferably a time when he doesn’t have to share the meal with Jaehyun and pretend to act cordial.

Jaehyun watches him as he stares down at his phone, then ‘ahh’s in understanding. “I’ll go down and get the pizza when it arrives,” he offers, amusement clear in his voice. “Don’t worry about blowing your cover.”

Doyoung’s frown only deepens, but he nods in acceptance and sets his phone aside. He doesn’t like the idea of being easy for Jaehyun to read and he  _ really _ doesn’t like the idea that Jaehyun finds him amusing. Unfortunately, he’s too good of a tutor to pass up. Who the hell gets a 98 in fluid dynamics? Only someone who’s made a pact with the devil, Doyoung is sure of it. That explains a lot about Jaehyun, actually.

With a barely contained sigh, Doyoung picks his laptop back up and says, gaze on Jaehyun’s chin so he doesn’t have to look into Jaehyun’s knowing eyes, “Should we start chapter three while we wait?”

The pizza arrives partway through the chapter, and Doyoung watches silently as Jaehyun clambers off the bed, legs too long to be graceful like this, and slides his feet into a pair of Winnie the Pooh slippers that are absolutely  _ not _ cute in the slightest. His shirt is riding up on his hip, revealing the barest hint of skin, and that is absolutely not attractive, either. Expression pinched, Doyoung makes a mental note to get someone’s number when he goes out with Ten later. Maybe even steal a kiss or two. Apparently he really needs it.

“Be right back,” Jaehyun promises, unaware of Doyoung’s inner turmoil, then he slips out the door, careful not to open it too wide. Doyoung despises how conscientious he is.

Silence settles over the room, leaving Doyoung uneasy. Shifting awkwardly on the bed, he takes the opportunity to scope out Jaehyun’s room a bit more. It’s painstakingly tidy, but not in a sterile kind of way. Despite how orderly and clean it is, the room feels well-lived in and warm. The pictures scattered across the walls are all bright and happy, everyone in them grinning or laughing or, in the case of pictures of the Acafellas, making comically serious faces that have a reluctant smile spreading across Doyoung’s own face. He really does like some of the Acafellas members as people, especially Jungwoo and the group’s rap line. It’s just unfortunate that, in order to be friends with them, he would have to deal with Jaehyun as well.

Tearing his eyes away from the cluster of Acafellas pictures, particularly one where Jaehyun looks endearingly small and tremendously happy as he’s being hugged by Yukhei, Doyoung continues his visual tour of Jaehyun’s room. He can identify one of the pots on the windowsill as an ivy of some sort, the leaves cascading down the wall and picking their way slowly across the floor with claw-like aerial roots. He knows the second one, too, brimming with long-stemmed daisies, their bright yellow petals turned toward the window even in the absence of sunlight. He’s not sure what the last plant is, but it has tiny, star shaped flowers of the palest pink, growing out in a dome from the center of the pot, like one gigantic pastel dandelion.

Doyoung sighs and forces his gaze back toward the textbook still resting open on the bed. It won’t do to get any more unwanted insight into Jaehyun’s life, there can be nothing gained from the walls around his icy heart weakening in the face of Jaehyun’s thoughtfulness and the warmth surrounding him. It doesn’t matter that his members clearly adore and respect him, he is a  _ demon _ who steals songs ruthlessly, has an illegal mini fridge, and keeps worming his way into Doyoung’s practice room. Doyoung refuses to soften. His eyes just keep wandering back to that picture of Jaehyun and Yukhei, and he doesn’t know why. 

Thankfully, Jaehyun returns before Doyoung has a chance to break his own vow to stop snooping. Doyoung watches silently as Jaehyun grabs some napkins from a drawer in his desk and shuffles over to the bed. It takes him a moment to make room for the pizza box, but he manages to find a way to balance everything so that they can both reach the box and see the textbook. Doyoung and Jaehyun share the pizza while Jaehyun continues to explain, and Doyoung leaves an hour later feeling slightly more confident in the material, but significantly less comfortable with this minute shift in his feelings regarding Jaehyun. 

He shakes his head and draws the scarf back up around his face, eyes cast toward the floor as he trudges back to his own room. He makes a silent vow to keep his eyes on his work from now on and not share any more meals with Jaehyun. They’re not  _ friends _ , and he can’t give Jaehyun or his own traitorous brain any reasons to think they might be on a narrow path to even a simple truce.

Feeling slightly better with his new resolve, Doyoung putters around his room before sitting down for a bit of study time before bed. Jaehyun wants to give him a practice test on the first three chapters at their next session, so they’re putting it off for a night so Doyoung can review. Needing a short break before he buckles down, Doyoung takes a shower, then rearranges his sweaters by color, contemplates his blank walls and tries (and fails) not to draw comparisons between his choice in decor and Jaehyun’s. 

Frustrated with the fact that Jaehyun even has him considering a redesign, Doyoung throws himself down into his desk chair dramatically and opens the textbook forcefully to chapter one. There’s no one there to see his small tantrum, but it makes him feel better anyway.

;;

A dedicated student, Doyoung devotes himself to studying for the practice test that weekend, treating it like a real test for the class. He needs to take this seriously if he’s going to do well on the final. Despite Yuta’s attempts to convince him to watch a new anime throughout breakfast, Doyoung spends all of Saturday curled up at the kitchen table, textbook and notes and scrap paper spread across the surface before him as he reviews and quizzes himself and reviews again. Yuta’s anime serves as constant, soothing background noise, along with the faint reactions from Yuta and Sicheng where they’re curled up on the couch together, watching, and by the time the sun fades, Doyoung is feeling quite confident.

He does go out with Ten that night, lets himself get pleasantly buzzed on cosmopolitans and makes out with a pretty psych major who’s just the slightest bit taller than him and has light brown hair and an easy smile. Later that night, Doyoung discovers that at some point in the night, (probably when he had Doyoung pinned to the bar with his hands resting comfortably on Doyoung’s ass), psych major had slipped his phone number into Doyoung’s pocket. His name is Heejun, his handwriting nice and neat and punctuated with a very cute smiley face, but for reasons unknown and with an uncomfortable curl in his gut, Doyoung tosses the scrap of paper into the bin as soon as they get back to the dorm. 

 

Doyoung wakes up Sunday morning to a text from a number saved under the contact ‘Bupyeon’. It takes him a second to figure out who it is, and once he does, he stares at his phone screen for a long moment, not quite sure what to make of the conflicting emotions swirling around in his head. 

He had given that nickname to Jaehyun years ago, back when they were friendly with each other - not friends, just  _ friendly _ , the potential there - and he thought Jaehyun was soft and sweet, just like the honeyed rice cakes. Squeezing his eyes shut, Doyoung thunks the phone against his forehead. He should really change it to something less...affectionate sounding. Something befitting an enemy. Something simple and cold, like ‘Jung’. 

His fingers move to change the contact name, but then he pauses, thumb hovering over the ‘edit’ key. The more he thinks about it, the better a nickname sounds. What if one of his members catches sight of his phone screen during practice one day and  _ sees _ Jaehyun texting him? The thought of someone finding out makes Doyoung’s stomach hurt and his throat start to tighten in an inexplicable panic. No, best to leave the contact name as it is. No one will ever know who Bupyeon is, it’s safer this way and absolutely does  _ not _ mean anything affectionate. Anymore.

Still uneasy, Doyoung opens the text and brings the phone closer to his face so he can see the words through sleep-blurred eyes.

**Bupyeon (9:48):** _ is 2 ok? _

**Bupyeon (9:48):** _this is jaehyun btw_

Doyoung texts back a simple ‘okay’, then sighs and drops the phone screen-down on his chest. He wants to ask Jaehyun how he has his number, but he has a feeling he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

Groaning, Doyoung rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face in his pillow. He should probably get up and study a bit more. He  _ is _ going to get up and study more. He just... needs to wallow for a bit first.

 

By the time Doyoung is done moping (and napping), he has enough time to get in a couple of hours of cramming and some lunch before he needs to find an excuse to sneak out and meet Jaehyun. He can feel Ten eyeing him warily while they eat, and he can’t really blame him. Doyoung has been feeling weird ever since he got the text, since he saw the nickname in his phone. How had he forgotten it was there?

Doyoung stares down at his bowl of rice, strips of fried egg and tofu stirred in and doused with a healthy serving of soy sauce. He’s not hungry anymore, but he can feel Ten’s worried gaze on him, so he forces himself to continue eating. The rice feels like sand going down his throat. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Ten asks, tactful as always. 

Doyoung shrugs and drags his chopsticks aggressively through his rice. A few grains pop out of the bowl and scatter across the table. “Just worried about my fluids final,” he mumbles. He hates lying to Ten, but at least it’s not entirely a lie. The justification doesn’t make him feel any better about it.

“Haven’t you been going to those tutoring sessions?”

Doyoung’s stomach twists and he presses his lips together before answering, “Yeah. I have more this week.”

“You’re going to do great,” Ten says, voice brimming with confidence in Doyoung’s abilities. Doyoung wishes he felt the same. 

Still feeling sour, Doyoung chances a glance at his watch. 1:54. Resigned to his fate, Doyoung scarfs the rest of his food down, washes his dishes, then mumbles something about going on a walk as he tugs a hoodie over his head. Ten just watches him go, eyes wide, and doesn’t say a word. 

Fingers fidgeting against the outline of his phone where it’s tucked into his pocket, Doyoung takes hurried strides as he crosses the hall. It’s a Sunday afternoon, so the dorm is busy, people bustling back and forth and calling to each other from open doorways, and he hadn’t prepared a disguise for the walk this time. He slows down as he approaches 307, nervous about getting into the room unnoticed. To his immense relief, the door is already open when he approaches, propped open by a shoe. For once, Jaehyun’s ability to read him and his thoughtfulness doesn’t annoy Doyoung. 

Glancing quickly over his shoulder, Doyoung veers sharply without stopping and slips right into the room, kicking the shoe out of the way so he can shut the door immediately behind himself. Jaehyun is already sitting on his bed, cross-legged and watching Doyoung with a terribly amused look on his face. Doyoung scowls at him, but Jaehyun just smiles back at him, sunny and pleasant as ever. 

In lieu of a greeting, Doyoung grouches, “I forgot my bag.”

“I have pencils, you’re welcome to use one,” Jaehyun says agreeably. “Do you want to sit at my desk? It will be more comfortable to write there. Can I get you something to drink?”

Jaehyun climbs to his feet without waiting for an answer. As he rummages through his desk drawer, pulling out a selection of pencils and pens, Doyoung squeezes his eyes shut and takes a long, slow breath. This is fine. He can do this, he is strong and he is going to sit in this room that smells of lavender and lemons, surrounded by photos of Jaehyun looking happy and well-loved, and he’s going to ace this test and  _ not _ think about Jaehyun while doing it.

He takes the proffered pens with a mumbled thank you, then takes a seat in Jaehyun’s desk chair, gives it an experimental spin before facing Jaehyun and finally meeting his eyes. “Will I need a calculator?”

“Not this time,” Jaehyun confirms. “It’s just simple multiplication and division. Are you ready? Do you have any questions to ask me first?”

Doyoung just shakes his head. He’s feeling horribly nervous all of the sudden, has to remind himself that this isn’t a real test and doesn’t count for anything. His fingers are trembling when he takes the packet from Jaehyun, though. He hopes Jaehyun hasn’t noticed. Not that he would ever say anything, if he did. Insufferable good manners. Sucking in a breath, Doyoung turns back to face the desk, sets the test carefully on its surface, then hunches over it and reads the first question. 

 

It takes Doyoung just over an hour to finish, and he can feel Jaehyun’s eyes on him from where he’s sprawled out on his bed with a book clutched in his hand the entire time. Doyoung hasn’t heard him turn any pages. 

By the time he’s done, Doyoung’s back aches and his fingers are cramping, but he has a good feeling about his score. He turns to tell Jaehyun he’s ready, finds Jaehyun already watching him expectantly. “I’m finished,” he says anyway, feeling lame.

Jaehyun’s answering smile is brilliant, dimples flirting in his cheeks and little crinkles by his nose and at the corners of his eyes. Doyoung’s stomach hurts. 

“Switch places with me so I can grade it,” Jaehyun says, pushing himself up and off the bed.

Doyoung gives his safe, distant, non-lavender scented seat up reluctantly and perches himself on the end of Jaehyun’s bed, far from his pillow and the warmth of the spot Jaehyun has just vacated. It feels a little too... intimate, too much for Doyoung to handle. 

Far too nervous to watch Jaehyun go over his test, Doyoung picks up the book Jaehyun had been pretending to read and starts it from the beginning. He figures that, with the lack of progress Jaehyun has made in the book over the past hour, he won’t mind losing his page. By the time Jaehyun has finished grading, he’s barely made it to the end of the first page and can’t recall a single word he’s just read. Jaehyun apparently has incredibly boring taste in books.

“Okay.” Jaehyun sounds fairly neutral, not excited, not disappointed, just his standard level of enthusiasm, and Doyoung doesn’t know what to make of it. He watches, head tipped back, as Jaehyun walks over to the bed and flops down beside him, too close for comfort. He smells like flowers. “Are you ready?”

Nerves rattling around in his stomach, Doyoung holds his hand out for the graded test. He can’t read Jaehyun’s carefully guarded expression, and the test is folded in half, so he can’t even get a sneak peak. It’s only practice, but Doyoung feels like he’s about to pass out when he starts to unfold the packet, squeezes his eyes shut and squints only one of them open so he can just barely see the big purple numbers Jaehyun has marked it with. 

93.

Wait. Doyoung opens both eyes, blinks them clear, then brings the test closer so he can skim over the pages, noting where Jaehyun has marked and comments left in the margins. Still not believing what he’s seen, Doyoung flips back to the front page and stares at the top corner, unblinking, for a full minute before it really hits him.

He made a  _ 93 _ .

“Yes!” Doyoung shouts, throwing his hands up into the air. He had failed this test earlier in the semester, but he finally  _ gets _ it and it feels amazing. 

He turns to look at Jaehyun, finds him watching him with a soft, pleased expression on his face. Doyoung’s heart is racing, a bit of an extreme reaction to something that doesn’t even count for anything, but he can’t help it, it’s taken him  _ months _ to get here and it’s all because of Jaehyun. Riding the high and not thinking anything through at all, Doyoung shoves the terrible book resting on the bed between them aside and clambers gracelessly into Jaehyun’s lap, cups Jaehyun’s face in his hands, and kisses him. He barely registers the surprised noise Jaehyun makes, but he feels it when Jaehyun’s hands close around his hips, squeezing tight. 

Taking that as permission granted, Doyoung tips Jaehyun’s head back with thumbs under his jaw and takes. He feasts on Jaehyun’s mouth, kissing him hot and frantic, teeth to his bottom lip, a velvet swipe of his tongue that has Jaehyun shivering underneath him. It’s sloppy and desperate, but it pulls a low moan from Jaehyun, the sound vibrating against Doyoung’s chest where they’re pressed together, and heat pools unexpectedly in the pit of Doyoung’s stomach.

Jaehyun looks sweet, but he kisses like sin, heat pouring off of him, lips soft and teeth sharp and hungry, and this is knowledge Doyoung never needed. He’s going too far. Tamping down on this desire rumbling in his chest, shoving everything down so he appears cool, calm, and collected, Doyoung ends the kiss abruptly, climbs right off of the bed, and slips into his shoes while Jaehyun just sits there, his eyes fluttering open in confusion. His hands are still hanging in the air, right where Doyoung’s hips had been, and his mouth is bruised red. He looks debauched.

Doyoung just snatches up his phone from where he’d set it down on the corner of the desk and slides it into his hoodie pocket, then tips Jaehyun a salute. “Great job today, thanks Jung. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, Doyoung slips out of the room, not giving Jaehyun a chance to say a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heldphk I love dojae and all of the fun possibilities for their dynamic, I hope you enjoyed this mess! Please let me know what you thought, this fic makes me far more nervous than my first fic yikes.
> 
> My personal twitter is [bigbabyjeno](https://twitter.com/bigbabyjeno), my writing twitter is [iambigbabyjeno](https://twitter.com/iambigbabyjeno) (very original thank you), and here is my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/bigbabyjeno) if you want to come say hi~ thank you for reading!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whewwww sorry this chapter took a little longer than I meant for it to! Thank you all so much for the comments on chapter 1, your response has been so much more than what I expected and you've all made me so happy, I appreciate you and your kind comments very much!
> 
> Anyway, here is chapter 2! My apologize to tennis, I promise I actually adore tennis. Also apologies for any incorrect details, I realize this all probably comes off as very American in terms of school structure and traditions but that is what I know. As always, this is not betaed, so any mistakes are my own. Please enjoy!

On Monday, Doyoung powers through two morning classes and his last electrical engineering lab, riding an end-of-semester high that only falls flat when he remembers that he still has to attend his tennis elective. The tennis elective the university had  _ made _ him sign up for in order to satisfy the phys ed requirement he needed to graduate. Fuck tennis, he hates tennis. He should have asked for, like, golf or... bowling. Something that requires less coordination and effort. Also less chances of being hit by stupid balls that are harder than they look and get shot out of serving machines at terrifying speeds.

A packed schedule and that stupid tennis class means he shows up to the music room five minutes late and sweaty, hair plastered to his forehead and shirt clinging uncomfortably to his back.  _ Fuck _ tennis, why does he need to take a physical activity, anyway? He’s an engineer, all he cares about is machines and singing. 

Doyoung bursts through the door just in time to hear Donghyuck say, “If he’s fifteen minutes late, practice is officially cancelled and we’re allowed to leave. It’s university law.”

Still panting, sweat dripping uncomfortably down his spine despite the fact that it’s winter and freezing outside, Doyoung rolls his eyes and hisses, “That’s only for professors, not voluntary clubs that you  _ volunteered _ for. But if you want to leave a week before the winter showcase, by all means! I’ll give your solo to someone else.”

He points toward the practice room door, aware of how dramatic he’s being, but he can’t stop himself. He’s sweaty and sore and there’s a bruise forming on his left side where the stupid tennis ball had hit him because he’s not coordinated enough for a sport like tennis, and he still has to deal with annoying Jaehyun and his annoying, lavender scented room and that  _ annoying _ picture of Jaehyun and Yukhei tonight, and he’s  _ tired _ .

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Doyoung squeeze his eyes shut and massages his temples. When he opens his eyes again, he finds the rest of the group staring at him, eyes wide, Donghyuck’s mouth hanging open. The newbies look mildly terrified. Gritting his teeth, Doyoung makes a concerted effort to sound calmer when he says, “It’s been a really long day. Can we please just practice so I can go home and shower.”

Everyone scrambles to their spots immediately, watching silently as Doyoung fishes his pitch pipe out of his bag and takes his place on the left flank.

Despite the rocky start, practice goes exceptionally well. Doyoung can feel his mood lifting with every note his team nails, and by the time they’ve run through the song three times, he feels elated. He’s still sweaty and his side is burning now, but he can’t stop grinning as he turns to face the rest of the group. They all look happy, too, the good mood palpable, Yuta’s smile radiant like the sun, and if Doyoung wasn’t so gross right now, he would hug him.

“We’re totally going to win.”

“Doyoung,” Ten sighs, but Doyoung just holds his hand up. He doesn’t want to hear that it isn’t a competition again, he will not let Ten be a vibe killer. He’s worked too hard for this good mood.

“Alright, the showcase is in less than a week. I know we only have the one song this time, but we need to meet tomorrow, same time, and discuss dress and choreography.”

At the horrified look one of the newbies shoots him, Doyoung rushes to reassure him. “Not dancing choreo, just...” He searches for the right word to describe swaying back and forth and shimmying their hips a little, in the end settles on, “Bopping.”

Ten and Yuta both snort, but Doyoung ignores them. Haters. Bopping is the perfect word for what they do. He takes a few more minutes to lavish them all with praise, always a fan of keeping morale up, then he dismisses them and starts the long trudge back to his dorm.

Despite how disgusting Doyoung still is, Yuta loops an arm through his as they walk and rubs his cheek against Doyoung’s shoulder like a cat. It makes Doyoung feel nice and warm inside, and if he wasn’t trying to hold onto a satchel overflowing with textbooks and his laptop, he would wrap his hand around Yuta’s arm and like. Pat his head or something. 

The walk is nice and quiet, campus mostly empty as the general student body starts to descend into panic just two weeks before final exams. Doyoung is suddenly grateful for Jaehyun’s single room. Studying in his suite or at a café is out of the question, and there’s no way they would be able to find an empty study room at this point. That reminds him -

Trying very hard not to dislodge Yuta, who seems quite content wrapped around his arm, Doyoung wiggles his phone out of his bag and sends a slow, clumsy text to Jaehyun.

**Doyoung (7:27):** are you free?

He tries not to stare at his screen and wait for a response. Ten is telling him something, but Doyoung only catches every third word. Something about dance class and his friend Taeyong and soju and Johnny’s photo exhibition. An alarm bell goes off in Doyoung’s head, but before he can ask Ten anything about Johnny, like the nature of their relationship and just how long this has been going on, his phone buzzes against his palm and he loses his entire train of thought. 

**Bupyeon (7:31):** yes come over

Doyoung flushes at the wording and tries very hard not to think about his actions the previous night.  _ Obviously _ that is not going to happen again, he was just. Elated. Not thinking straight. Heat of the moment. Why the  _ fuck _ did he have to throw that psych major’s phone number out the other night? Rolling his eyes at himself, Doyoung replies as curtly and not-suggestively as he can.

**Doyoung (7:32):** 20 min.

He isn’t aware of Ten’s proximity until his chin brushes Doyoung’s shoulder and his voice sounds from right beside his ear, asking, “Who is Bupyeon? Isn’t that a -“

“It’s - no one,” Doyoung stutters. “My tutor. Can’t remember his name. He kind of looks like a rice cake, though.”

Ten just gives him a very strange look. “If I didn’t know that was your weird way of flirting with someone -“

Aghast, Doyoung insists, “I’m  _ not _ !”

He can feel his face heating up and his entire body twitches in distress. Flirting with Jaehyun. The  _ enemy _ . Who does Ten take him for?

Grinding his teeth together, Doyoung forces himself to let it go before he blurts out something he’ll regret. He can feel Ten shooting him curious looks the rest of the way back to the dorm, but he ignores them in favor of throwing himself into conversation with Yuta so that Ten doesn’t have a chance to ask any more questions.

It takes Doyoung the whole 20 minutes just to get back, shower, and throw some clothes on. By the time he leaves, he’s five minutes late and he can just  _ see  _ Jaehyun’s stupid smirk. Already scowling, he texts Jaehyun that he’s coming so that he’ll leave the door open like he had the last time. When he slips into the room, Jaehyun is sitting on his bed, back ramrod straight as he watches Doyoung toe off his shoes.

Feeling awkward now, Doyoung sets his bag carefully on the edge of the bed and ruffles a hand through his wet hair. “Uh, hi. Sorry I’m late.” Jaehyun just nods and Doyoung scrunches his nose. He’s not quite sure what to say, so he just gets straight to it. “So. Chapter four?”

Jaehyun’s shoulders drop and he blows out a slow breath, and Doyoung figures he’s said the right thing. When Jaehyun nods again, Doyoung takes his spot at the end of the bed and opens his laptop so they can get started. 

;;

The rest of the week passes in a blur of final classes, intense rehearsal, and late night study sessions that leave Doyoung’s eyes aching and his brain overloaded. The closer they get to cram week, the more nervous Doyoung gets for the showcase and impending finals. He knows they’re going to perform beautifully and that he’ll ace all of his other courses, but he needs a high A on the fluids final to swing a 90 for the course, and he knows it’s a lofty goal. 

Though it’s been hard to admit, Jaehyun is a great teacher, and they’ve blown through over half of the content in a week and a half of lengthy study sessions. He hasn’t given Doyoung another mock test, but Doyoung knows he would have killed it if he had, so he doesn’t feel too bad about taking Saturday night and Sunday off from studying to get ready for the showcase and perform. 

The concert is early Sunday evening, just before sunset, so most of the day is spent gathering his members, making sure they’re dressed as discussed, and getting ready behind the stage the university has set up on the main lawn. It’s a very long afternoon, and Doyoung keeps losing track of members and finding them with the Acafellas in the far corner of the space backstage. 

As roommates and best friends, he understands Yuta hanging around Sicheng, but Donghyuck keeps drifting off to giggle with one of Jaehyun’s rappers, a tiny, wide-eyed gremlin named Mark that Doyoung actually kind of loves because he’s just so  _ weird _ , but that’s besides the point. He needs his members. They have a performance to prepare for and they’re opening the show. Nerves flutter in his chest every time he remembers that, and he has to count off his breaths and remind himself that he’s been performing for three years now and that he chose this slot for a reason and they’re going to crush it. 

He’s on his thirteenth roundup -  _ honestly _ , how hard is it to stay in a group and not fraternize with the enemy for five whole minutes - when the showcase organizer waves them over. She looks flustered. “Okay,” she wheezes, looking around nervously. “Mr. Wang is emceeing and he goes on in fifteen, so you’re up in twenty. Are your mics ready?”

There’s a flurry of movement as they all turn to check each others mic packs and fix stray hairs. Doyoung watches as Jaemin helps Jeno straighten his shirt, is just about to interfere and help that disaster when a hand grasps his shoulder and a low voice murmurs in his ear, “Are you ready to open the show? That’s a lot of pressure.”

Doyoung closes his eyes briefly, then turns around to raise an eyebrow at Jaehyun in what he hopes comes across as a confident, challenging glare. He has a feeling he only makes it halfway, though. He wasn’t expecting Jaehyun to be wearing a crushed red velvet blazer, nipped at the waist, with a ruffled  _ ascot _ , his hair slicked back with one lock curling over his forehead. He looks ridiculous, like he stepped out of a 1950’s cigar room, but also just kind of ridiculously gorgeous. Doyoung hates him.

Mustering up every ounce of confidence and snotty attitude he can, Doyoung shoots back, “Are  _ you _ ready to follow the best performance of the night? That’s a lot of pressure.”

Jaehyun just shrugs, a competitive glint in his eyes, and says, “The first act isn’t always the most memorable one. I admire your confidence, though.”

Doyoung bristles at Jaehyun’s tone, but before he can compose a witty comeback, the stage director calls out, “Noteworthy, you’re on in thirty!”

Muttering under his breath, Doyoung turns away from Jaehyun and moves to stand with his team. He can feel Jaehyun’s eyes on him as they crowd together at side-stage, and he has to fight the urge to look back while they wait. All thoughts of Jaehyun and winning the not-competition scatter the moment the stage director starts counting down from ten, though, and on her cue, Doyoung leads his members out toward center stage. 

There’s a decent crowd scattered across the lawn, all eyes on them as they move into formation, and just like that, Doyoung’s nerves settle. Everyone knows Miracles in December, Doyoung’s arrangement of it is beautiful and just different enough, and they’ve practiced so much they could all perform it in their sleep. He can do this,  _ they _ can do this. Doyoung glances at Ten beside him, the corner of his mouth hitching into a small smile when Ten nods at him, then lifts the pitch pipe to his mouth. 

  
  


The performance is flawless. Doyoung knows they were amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to have his feelings reaffirmed as they move backstage amidst raucous cheers to make way for the next performance. The university’s jazz band is queued up and they all shuffle their instruments to one hand so they can pat Doyoung and his members on the back and call out compliments as they squeeze past to have their mics removed.

Sicheng is waiting for them a few feet away, already outfitted with his own mic, and Doyoung spots the rest of his group in the far corner getting outfitted. He fidgets and tries not to stare at the Acafellas as Sicheng takes his time congratulating everyone with hugs and shoulder squeezes. Jaehyun is fussing with Jungwoo’s hair, Jungwoo’s hands resting lightly on Jaehyun’s hips, and Yukhei is towering over them both, waiting his turn. Something unfamiliar burns in the pit of Doyoung’s stomach.

He forces his attention to the other members, all dressed in similar velvet jackets in deep winter colors, some with shimmering bow ties, some with pussycat bows. Doyoung still has no idea what they’re performing, and their outfits don’t offer any clues. It’s on the tip of his tongue when Sicheng gets to him, but before he can get the question out, Sicheng is letting go so he can move on to Yuta. Frowning, Doyoung watches as he drops a quick kiss to Yuta’s forehead, then scampers back to his own group. Too slow.

It’s chaotic behind the stage, way too crowded, and now that they’re finished they’re free until the closing ment, but it feels wrong to leave without seeing the rest of the performances. Plus, Sicheng is his roommate, Doyoung has to stay and support him. And he just  _ really _ wants to know what song Jaehyun chose. So they all wait patiently as the stage crew removes their mics, then they grab their stuff and find a spot on the lawn big enough for them all to sit and watch the rest of the show.

There are six sets between Doyoung’s group and Jaehyun’s, and in Doyoung’s semi-professional opinion, they’re all  _ boring. _ Yuta falls asleep on Jeno’s shoulder halfway through the teacher’s choir and the newbies leave to get snacks with Jaemin and Donghyuck after the second soloist. Doyoung reminds them to come back at the end of the hour for the closing stage, then settles back onto his palms. Nearly there.

Doyoung has nearly dozed off himself, chin tucked down against his chest, when suddenly someone is nudging him in the side and a set of voices starts up a familiar tune. Suddenly wide awake, Doyoung lifts his gaze to the stage and watches, mouth hanging open, as the Acafellas jog out already snapping and humming. Doyoung lets out an incredulous laugh as Jaehyun stops right at center stage, strikes a dramatic pose, and croons, his voice smooth and lovely, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there’s just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree...”

The song starts out slow, Jaehyun’s vocalists churning out a pretty melody for him, but as soon as the first verse ends, Jaehyun takes a big step back and the beat drops. The crowd erupts into cheers as Mark and Yukhei stride forward to take center stage and spit out a rap that is definitely not part of the original version of the song but fits it so well, even Doyoung is impressed. The performance is complete with full choreography, and by the end, Doyoung is clapping along with the rest of the crowd, though he would never in a million years admit it to Jaehyun. He pointedly ignores Ten’s knowing look as they cheer Jaehyun’s group off the stage. He trusts Ten not to say anything, either. Sort of.

The remainder of the show goes quickly, none of the performances nearly as exciting as Jaehyun’s had been, and the rest of Doyoung’s members arrive just in time for the ending ment. All of the performers crowd onto the stage together to give final bows and wishes for happy holidays and good exam results. Doyoung kind of wants to talk to Jaehyun - not to admit how great their performance was, of course, just... talk - but they’re clear on the opposite side of the stage and the jazz band is still holding all of their instruments for some reason, and the stage is a disaster.

So instead, Doyoung turns to his group and yells, just loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of sound, “Party in the practice room!”

They all fight their way through the mess of people and trumpets, stumbling off the stage, and head for the music building where they collapse on the floor of their practice room and squabble over what kind of food to order. In the end, Doyoung calls in entirely too much food for ten people, but they’re  _ celebrating _ . 

While they wait, someone turns on music, they all shed their jackets and shoes, and Donghyuck and Yuta start a dance party in the corner of the room against the mirrors. For some reason, Donghyuck has an app on his phone that turns his screen into a disco light, and someone slaps the overhead lights off, throwing the room into darkness, the only relief from Donghyuck’s phone screen flashing red then blue then green, reflected back in the mirrors. 

Doyoung watches them for a few while, amused, before he decides he needs to wash up and go wait for the delivery person to arrive. The halls are dark and quiet, and he has to use his flashlight to find the sinks in the bathroom. It’s kind of spooky, everything echoing back ten-fold, but he likes the creepy sort of peace that can be found in university buildings after hours. 

Hands still damp, he pushes out the front door of the building and settles against the railing at the top of the stairs to wait. It’s frigid out, his breaths coming out in soft white plumes of air that make fascinating shapes and whorls every time he exhales. A few minutes later, Doyoung is so focused on his attempts to blow a fog ring that he doesn’t hear the door swing open, doesn’t see movement until a voice startles him so badly he yelps and stumbles back against the railing, has to grab it in desperate hands before he tumbles down the stairs.

Heart racing, Doyoung turns and sees Jaehyun - of course it’s Jaehyun - standing beside him, eyes wide, lips forming a small ‘o’ of surprise. Doyoung pats a hand over his heart, willing it to calm down, and Jaehyun stutters, voice thick with suppressed laughter, fuck him, “Sorry, I - I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought for sure you would hear me come out here, I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“I was distracted,” Doyoung mutters, horribly embarrassed now. He had thought he was alone. He really hopes Jaehyun hadn’t noticed what he was doing, he probably looked like an idiot.

“You know, I don’t think it’s possible to blow smoke rings from foggy breath. It’s not really smoke.”

There’s amusement in Jaehyun’s voice now, and Doyoung scrunches his eyes shut, too embarrassed to even think of a snapback. He doesn’t need to, though, because before he can even open his mouth, Jaehyun asks, “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

“Waiting for food. We’re celebrating. What are  _ you _ doing here?” 

He peers at Jaehyun suspiciously, but Jaehyun just waves a small notebook in the air and explains, “I forgot my arrangements in the practice room. We have an event next week.”

“Oh.” Doyoung relaxes back against the railing and drops his gaze to his feet, toes stacked on top of each other as an awkward silence falls between them.

The silence stretches, getting worse the longer it goes, and anxiety is building in Doyoung’s chest. He’s just about to do... something, he’s not sure what - run away, maybe - when Jaehyun tilts his head to the side and says, “Your performance was really great today. Did you arrange the song yourself?” 

Doyoung just nods, eyes wide in surprise at the compliment. Jaehyun shuffles a step closer so he can lean their shoulders together, and Doyoung can immediately feel some of Jaehyun’s body heat seep through the thin fabric of his jacket. He’s still wearing that ridiculous ascot and velvet blazer, and Doyoung’s fingers itch to touch it.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this before, but your voice is really beautiful.”

Doyoung freezes, heart dropping into the pit of his stomach, then turns his head slowly. He finds Jaehyun already looking at him, cheeks pink and a slightly bashful expression on his face, and Doyoung’s brain shuts down. His breath leaves him in a puff of white mist as he twists to the side, winding an arm around the back of Jaehyun’s neck and tugging him in.

Jaehyun doesn’t resist. His hands go to Doyoung’s sides, clutching at the soft corduroy of his jacket as he inches even closer. Someone makes a noise low in their throat, Doyoung’s not sure who, but it has his toes curling and his fingers tugging at the soft hairs at the nape of Jaehyun’s neck as he nips at his bottom lip. This time, he knows it’s Jaehyun who makes the noise and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue between Jaehyun’s already parted lips. Jaehyun tastes like coffee and the peppermint candy canes they had been handing out at the showcase and his blazer is soft under Doyoung’s palms as he pulls him even closer.

It’s freezing out, Doyoung’s toes numb in his shoes, but he’s burning up inside. Jaehyun bends him back over the railing, hands on his hips as he takes control of the kiss, and Doyoung lets him. This is a terrible idea, even worse than that first, brief kiss in Jaehyun’s room had been. Anyone could walk past the building and catch them, Jaehyun could get the wrong impression and think this is going to become a  _ thing _ , one of his group members could come looking for him and discover them and he would have to resign from his post as leader in shame, but -

But Jaehyun’s cold fingertips skim the small of Doyoung’s back under his shirt, sending a shiver up Doyoung’s spine, and he’s  _ weak _ . Whatever, he’ll berate himself later. Right now, he just wants Jaehyun’s body against his own, wants to chase that faint mint flavor on Jaehyun’s tongue and hear those breathy little moans he makes more than anything else.

Doyoung is weighing the pros and cons of hopping up onto the railing so he can wrap his legs around Jaehyun’s waist when someone nearby clears their throat, startling them apart. Blind panic sets in before Doyoung has even opened his eyes and he starts to hyperventilate, imagining the worst. It’s one of his members, sent to look for him, it’s Donghyuck who will tell absolutely everyone, it’s  _ Ten _ , who will never let him live this down -

“Are you Kim Doyoung?” a confused, unfamiliar voice asks, breaking through Doyoung’s wall of panic, and he turns his head, finds a wide-eyed stranger standing at the bottom of the stairs with several bulging bags clutched in his hands.

Relief floods him and it takes Doyoung several attempts to get his voice to work. “Yes,” he whispers, throat still tight, “That’s me. I’m Kim Doyoung.”

He unwinds himself from Jaehyun so he can stagger down the stairs and sign the receipt the man is holding out, carefully avoiding eye contact as he exchanges the receipt and pen for the bags. The man scurries away without another word, and Doyoung grimaces as he watches him power walk toward the parking lot.

When Doyoung turns around, Jaehyun is still standing at the top of the stairs, lips kiss-swollen and his jacket wrinkled from Doyoung’s grip. Desire pulls at Doyoung’s belly, but he ignores it, lifting the bags in his shaking hands and saying, “Well - I should go. Inside. They’re waiting, don’t want the food to get cold.”

The ‘ _ don’t want anyone to come looking for me _ ’ goes unsaid. Doyoung forces out an awkward laugh, then climbs the stairs on unsteady feet. Jaehyun is just watching him, an unreadable expression on his face, as he tries to slip past him to get to the door. He’s nearly there, one hand outstretched as he reaches for the door handle, when Jaehyun suddenly says, “Doyoung, wait.”

Doyoung freezes, hand in midair, as Jaehyun approaches him. He can see his reflection in the dark glass, watches Jaehyun lift a hand to smooth down Doyoung’s rumpled collar and tug his jacket down over his hips.

“Thanks,” Doyoung whispers, his pulse racing. He hopes Jaehyun can’t hear how hard his heart is pounding.

They stand there like that for a minute, Doyoung’s eyes on Jaehyun’s reflection in the door, before Jaehyun takes a step back and says, voice deceptively casual, “So. See you Monday?”

Doyoung just nods.

There’s another pause as Jaehyun shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks and takes another small step back. “Okay. I’ll text you tomorrow to set a time.”

Another nod, then Jaehyun is murmuring a goodbye and Doyoung is watching his retreating silhouette in the dark glass of the door. He waits until he can no longer distinguish Jaehyun from the black blurs of trees and distant buildings before pushing his way back inside. It’s slightly warmer in the hallway, and feeling begins to return to the tips of Doyoung’s fingers as he heads toward the practice room. He can hear the music as he turns the corner, can hear peals of laughter and excited shouting that he recognizes as Yuta and Ten, and he stamps down on the panic he can feel climbing up the back of his throat. 

“Get yourself together,” Doyoung mumbles under his breath. He slows his pace so he can take a few slow, deep breaths, scrubs the back of a hand over his mouth and hopes no one will be able to tell that he’s just had his tongue down someone’s throat. Hopes  _ Ten _ won’t be able to tell with his fucking eagle eyes and knowing smiles.

Doyoung pauses at the door to the practice room and takes a moment to rest his forehead against the wall. He closes his eyes and counts to twenty, can feel his heartbeat slow a little with each passing moment. Okay. He can do this.

Sucking in one last breath, Doyoung straightens up from his slouch, pastes a huge smile on his face, and knees the door open. He raises his arms up over his head, bags dangling in the air, and announces loud enough to be heard over the music, “Dinner’s here! Who’s ready to feast?”

;;

Much like the previous week had, cram week and finals pass in one long, sleepless haze. Doyoung spends a week going from tutorial to study session to nap and back to tutorial, his mind an endless loop of engineering concepts and daydreams about his bed, and he knows it’s not any better for his friends. Even though they live together, they barely see each other, and he’s pretty sure that none of them have had a proper sleep or meal since Sunday. At least showcase rehearsals are out of the way, he supposes, so that’s one item off their plates and a couple of hours a day freed up to devote to studying, instead.

The last few study sessions with Jaehyun are so frantically busy as they try to power through the rest of the material and review as much as they can that there isn’t even a spare moment to  _ think _ about their kiss outside the music building the other day, and Doyoung isn’t sure whether he should be disappointed or grateful. In the end, he settles on grateful, calling on his disdain for Jaehyun and his dumb, talented acapella group instead of the confusing cocktail of emotions that have been plaguing him for the last few weeks. It’s absolutely  _ not _ because those feelings are easier to deal with than the desire that rumbles through his chest whenever Jaehyun pouts in concentration or stretches across the bed to reach for something he had stored on the floor, shirt riding up so that the smooth, pale skin of his hip peeks out from underneath. It’s not.

Whatever, Doyoung isn’t stupid. He knows he’s been feeling some level of... attraction to Jaehyun. It makes sense, considering the fact that they’ve been spending hours every day cooped up in Jaehyun’s small, cozy room, sitting shoulder to shoulder on his bed, sharing meals and personal space and the faint, irritatingly seductive scent of lavender. He’s reasonably sure that, once finals are over, everything will go back to normal. He’ll be able to go back to hating Jaehyun from a comfortable distance, barely tolerating his presence in Ten’s life, and he can find that tall, beautiful psych major from the bar and get his number again. There’s a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

 

Doyoung’s fluid dynamics final is on Tuesday at 9am. He wakes himself up at 5, after a scant three hours of sleep, so that he can chug coffee and review his notes before he needs to go. At 8, he tugs on a hoodie, makes himself some toast, and packs his laptop, a handful of pens and pencils, his calculator, and two extra sets of batteries, just in case, then leaves for the engineering building.

Even at 8:15 in the morning, campus is teeming with life. Birds sing to one another from tree to tree, a cat slinks into a row of bushes, its tail swishing back and forth, and harried looking students bustle from building to building, muttering under their breaths and counting off on their fingers as they go. Doyoung briefly considers stopping at the campus coffee shop, but the line is out the door and he’s pretty sure he’s got more coffee surging through his system than blood at this point, so he just tucks his chin down and continues on toward his destination.

Unlike the sidewalks outside, the engineering building is nearly empty this early in the morning. Doyoung’s footsteps echo on the tile floors and he shivers in the chill of the lobby, regretting his decision not to get some hot coffee to warm his fingertips and his insides. The lecture hall is marginally warmer, carpet absorbing the cold and muffling his steps, and Doyoung sinks into his usual seat in the front row with a sigh. He figures he has at least twenty minutes before anyone starts to show up, so he tugs out his laptop and starts to review notes again. 

As time inches closer and closer to 9am, the room slowly fills around him, but Doyoung remains focused on his notes despite the rising noise level. The professor doesn’t show up until two minutes before the exam is due to begin, and silence falls over the room immediately as her assistants begin handing out the exams. Nerves flutter in Doyoung’s stomach as he packs his laptop away and pulls out his calculator and pencils. It’s fine, he can do this. Jaehyun has helped him immensely, he  _ gets _ it now. Lips pressed together, he gauges the amount of time he has before an exam reaches him and quickly grabs his phone to send a short ‘good luck’ text to Jaehyun. It just feels like the right thing to do.

A lab assistant reaches him with an exam as soon as he presses send, so Doyoung tucks his phone back into his bag and, sucking in a deep breath, takes the packet from her with a trembling hand and begins. 

;;

Doyoung stares at the array in front of him, brow furrowed in concentration. It’s winter, so the selection is scarce, but he wants something nice. Something different. 

In the end, he finds it tucked behind a cluster of chrysanthemums, standing tall and willowy, with delicate yellow flowers no bigger than the flat of his thumb. Doyoung pulls the little pot out from the back of the shelf as carefully as he can, pleased with his find. It’s already in a nice little terra cotta pot, too, and he thinks he remembers seeing a sign at the front saying they can wrap the pot in cellophane at checkout if he wants.

It’s a nice gift, he thinks, considering what he knows about Jaehyun (which is not much, honestly, but he does already have plants in his room, so this feels safe). Doyoung worries his thumbnail as he considers the rolls of cellophane at the register. Maybe he should have looked up the symbolism of the flowers, first. What if orchids mean something romantic? Jaehyun seems like the kind of person who would know that. Frowning now, Doyoung stares down at the little plant in his hands, with its bright, unassuming flowers and roots like knobbly green fingers reaching for the edges of the pot. Who knew something so small and harmless could cause someone so much grief?

The cashier is staring at Doyoung with concern now, like he’s worried Doyoung is about to make a break for it with the orchid in hand. Grimacing, Doyoung lifts the pot and explains, “I’ve been trying to find a thank you gift for a friend who helped tutor me. Do you think this is a nice thank you gift?”

The cashier just shrugs. “Sure? Orchids are nice.”

Casting a glance around, Doyoung leans over the counter and whispers, “They don’t mean anything... you know.  _ Romantic _ , do they? It’s just. We’re not even really friends, I don’t want them to get the wrong idea, if you know what I mean.”

The cashier just blinks at Doyoung, then says, “I don’t know, man. Orchids are nice.”

Doyoung holds the guy’s gaze for another minute, waiting to see if he’s going to add anything, but he just stares back calmly. Finally, he points at the pot and asks, “Are you going to buy that?”

Shoulders slumping, Doyoung thrusts the pot at the cashier and mumbles, “Wrap it in yellow, please,” as he tugs his wallet out to pay. Maybe orchids don’t mean anything special. He’s probably just overthinking it, anyway. Hopefully Jaehyun just won’t know what orchids symbolize and it will all be fine. 

Doyoung cradles the wrapped pot between his knees as the bus rattles down the road, watches transfixed as the tiny flowers sway back and forth with the motion. He really hopes Jaehyun isn’t in his room. He’s just going to leave the pot outside his door, the little thank you card tucked into the cellophane where he knows Jaehyun will find it, and go take a nap. He’s finally done with all of his finals and it feels  _ great _ , like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Ten and Taeil still have exams that afternoon, but they already have their celebratory movie picked out and Yuta and Sicheng are getting dinner, one last movie night before everyone leaves for home tomorrow.

The dorm is quiet when Doyoung arrives, the hall thankfully empty as he crouches down in front of Jaehyun’s door and tucks the little pot into the crevice between the door and the jamb where hopefully no one will kick it over. Satisfied, he straightens up and heads for his room without knocking on Jaehyun’s door. He’s been sleep deprived for weeks now, brain not currently equipped to handle awkward conversation, and his bed is calling to him.

;;

The thing about winter break is that Doyoung is  _ bored _ . It feels luxurious for the first few days, sleeping as late as he wants and lazing around his parents house, but the novelty wears off quite quickly and within days, he feels like he’s about to crawl out of his own skin. His mom takes him shopping with her and makes him help her in the kitchen, but pushing a shopping cart and chopping mushrooms can only get Doyoung so far. He really needs more local friends.

Doyoung does manage to see a few school friends in the days before Christmas, and Christmas itself is a busy affair as his grandparents drive in for a few days, but Ten and Yuta have been blowing the group chat up with pictures of their adventures and family time back home and all Doyoung has to show for his break is a picture of him with his family all in matching ugly sweaters and a selfie with his neighbor’s cat. He’s so  _ lame _ , and he doesn’t even try to defend himself when his friends point that out.

The day after Christmas, Doyoung gets a private text from Ten.

**Ten (11:32):** you know jaehyun lives in seoul :)

There’s an attachment, and when Doyoung opens it, it takes him to Jaehyun’s contact entry, already stored in his phone. Not that Ten knows that. Doyoung stares down at his screen for a moment. He actually hadn’t known that Jaehyun was from Seoul, but that wouldn’t have changed how he had spent his break up until now.

**Doyoung (11:34):** What am I supposed to do with that?

**Ten (11:34):** call him, you dumbass. you dont have to marry him just be friendly hes super nice!!!

Expression pinched, Doyoung texts back a calm, polite ‘no thank you’.

**Ten (11:35):** whatever be bored and lonely then loser!!! one day youll realize. love you see you in a week :*

 

Over the next few days, Doyoung finds himself pulling his phone out and opening up his text thread with Jaehyun every few hours. Each time, he stares down at his phone, finger hovering over the ‘h’, but each time, he ends up just locking it and tucking it back into his pocket. They’re not friends, he doesn’t  _ want _ them to be friends, he would rather lock himself in his room and watch Stranger Things for the 800th time than reach out to Jaehyun. So that’s what he does.

On New Year’s Eve, Doyoung’s next door neighbors throw a big party with lots of their friends, some of whom are, thankfully, parents of Doyoung’s school friends. He and his friends all gather in the study, away from the embarrassing adults, and Doyoung’s dad slips them a bunch of alcohol and a bevy of snacks and leaves them to their own devices. Doyoung gets pleasantly buzzed while they all catch up and laugh over stories from their school days, and it’s one of the better nights Doyoung has had in a long time.

Just before midnight, Doyoung gets a text from Yuta, a picture of him blowing a kiss at the screen, and it makes Doyoung’s tipsy heart feel warm and fuzzy. He sends back his own, cheeks flushed and eyes overbright as he makes a finger heart at the camera, and just as he’s about to put his phone down, another text comes through. 

To Doyoung’s surprise, it’s Jaehyun this time. He looks surprisingly sober, overhead lights glinting off his shimmery gold shirt and the stupid glittery 2019 glasses he has on, and - oh. There’s Doyoung’s plant, clearly visible right over Jaehyun’s right shoulder, its bright little flowers turned toward the window it’s perched in. It looks happy.

Something warm unfurls in Doyoung’s chest, but he chalks it up to the amount of alcohol he has consumed. He stares at the photo for a few moments while his friends chat and drink around him, only snaps out of his daze when he hears loud cheering and the beginning of a countdown coming from the adults in the living room. His breathing is labored, thumb trembling a little as he holds it down against the picture and presses ‘save’. It’s just a nice picture, that’s all. Proof that his gift had been a great idea. He’ll use it for Jaehyun’s contact picture in his phone.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Someone jostles Doyoung’s shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie of self-denial, and Doyoung turns his head to find a few of his friends looking at him pointedly, their glasses raised to toast the new year. Swallowing... whatever it was that picture and the nice text Jaehyun sent him had started, butterflies trying to crawl their way up his throat, Doyoung locks his phone without responding and grabs his own cup from where he’d set it on the floor.

“Three! Two! One!”

The room erupts in cheers and Doyoung tosses the rest of his drink back, ignoring the way his phone is burning against his thigh. It’s fine. He’ll deal with the butterflies later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my choices for the winter showcase songs are terribly unoriginal and self-indulgent, but I had this VISION of them singing Miracles in December like three months ago and then Yuta went and sang part of it in a vlive, so it was obviously Meant To Be. The version they sang is along the lines of [this](https://www.vlive.tv/video/52534), with Donghyuck and Yuta pulling out King Jeup's high note.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm just a fair warning~, this fic has a mature rating for a reason. If you're not into it, you can skip the first scene though and then you're in the clear!

On a normal day, Doyoung would be thrilled to have the suite to himself. On Sunday, though, after nearly two months of boredom and isolation, the silence pervading the dorm has him slowly losing his mind.

While he waits for everyone else to come back, Doyoung tries to distract himself by airing out all of the rooms and tidying up a few odds and ends. He organizes all of the books he’s bought for his classes this semester; unpacks and re-packs his desk drawers, arranging his supplies in order of importance; and hangs a corkboard that he decorates with pictures he had printed over the break, takes all of the pictures down, and then hangs them back up in a different configuration. Doyoung tries not to think about the pictures in Jaehyun’s room while he works, but every time he closes his eyes, he sees walls filled with snapshots, specifically that one damned picture of Yukhei hugging Jaehyun and their annoyingly happy expressions. He really hates that picture.

Doyoung is lost in thought, staring blankly down at a celebratory selfie he had taken with Noteworthy after winning a competition the previous semester, when he hears the suite door fly open and a voice announce, “I’m back, bitches!”

Rolling his eyes, Doyoung pins the picture to the corkboard, then walks over to his bedroom door so he can poke his head around the corner. There’s a smile working its way across his face despite himself. Ten is just standing in the doorway, arms spread wide and bags at his feet, waiting for a response. He’s ridiculous, but Doyoung is so happy he’s back, he’s missed him. Not that he’d ever let Ten  _ know _ that, of course.

“I’m literally the only one here,” Doyoung points out, but Ten just beams at him and wiggles his fingers, arms still outstretched.

“That’s okay, you’re my favorite roommate anyway. Come hug me. Quickly! It’s freezing in the hallway, my ass is cold.”

“Then close the door,” Doyoung grumbles, but he shuffles across the common area obligingly, socks dragging on the carpet, and wraps his arms around Ten’s waist. He has to stoop down a little so he can rest his chin on Ten’s shoulder, but he smells really good and his jacket is soft against Doyoung’s cheek, so it’s worth it.

Taeil arrives shortly after Ten, Yuta and Sicheng a few hours after that, and there are a few hours of chaos as hellos are said and everyone gets situated. Before long, though, they’re all piled together on the sofa trying to decide what to order for dinner. The school cafeterias don’t open until classes start, and dinner and a movie their first night back is a tradition, anyway. 

Doyoung is finishing up their dinner order, confirming everything with the person on the phone, when Ten interrupts, looking up from his phone, “Wait, sorry, add one more chicken. I’m paying.” He frowns at Ten in confusion, but he adds the dish before the person taking the order gets impatient with him. When he hangs up, he turns to Ten and asks, amused, “Are you that hungry?”

Ten looks a little sheepish, eyes shifting back and forth between Doyoung’s, and Doyoung knows immediately that he doesn’t want to hear whatever it is Ten is about to tell him. Huffing a little, like he’s put out by the fact that he has to tell Doyoung what he’s done, Ten admits, “I invited Jaehyun.”

Doyoung’s stomach twists and he just stares at Ten for a moment, not quite sure how to react. How Ten expects him to react. He sighs. “You know, your attempts to make me like him -”

“That’s not what this is about... this time.” Ten defends, expression shifting into something a little too smug for Doyoung’s liking. Ten enjoys riling him up a little  _ too _ much. Doyoung needs new friends. “He just got back and he doesn’t have any roommates, can’t I just be nice? You don’t have to like him, but he’s my friend, and rule number two only says that -”

Exasperated, Doyoung hisses, “I know what rule number two says.” 

“He’s my friend, too,” Sicheng points out needlessly, grinning at Doyoung from under Yuta’s arm, and then Yuta and Taeil are chiming in, teaming up against Doyoung because they want him to  _ suffer _ even though he’s only ever been nice to them. Traitors.

Doyoung groans and flops back against the back of the couch, waves a hand dismissively. “Whatever, but you’re going to pick up the food.”

“Give me money, then.”

Ten gathers cash from everyone, salutes them from the doorway, then disappears out into the hall. They’re all quiet for a few minutes after Ten leaves, tapping away on phones or staring at the television playing a muted episode of Inkigayo that only Ten cares about. Finally, needing to break the silence and also assert his claim so they don’t end up watching one of Yuta’s picks  _ again _ , Doyoung announces, “I’m choosing the movie tonight.”

There’s an immediate round of protests - which, quite frankly, Doyoung finds offensive, he has excellent taste, fuck you Yuta - but Doyoung just sets his jaw and stares at them until they acquiesce. The fact that Yuta gives in probably has more to do with Sicheng patting his arm and telling him to shut up than it does Doyoung’s formidable glare, but whatever, it’s a win and Doyoung will take it.

By the time Ten arrives, bags of food in hand and Jaehyun in tow, the movie is paused on screen and Yuta is showing them pictures from the last few weeks of vacation, when Sicheng came to visit him in Osaka. Doyoung kind of wants to see the rest of the pictures from Universal Studios, but Sicheng and Yuta get up to hug Jaehyun, then settle back into their corner of the couch and wait patiently for their food, Yuta’s phone now out of reach. 

The problem with their current arrangement, Doyoung observes as Jaehyun makes his rounds, is that their couch is not big enough for all of them. Taeil is already on the floor in front of Yuta and even though Jaehyun is a guest and his mom taught him better than this, Doyoung is not moving, he was here  _ first _ . One of the others can offer up their seat if they want. Jaehyun doesn’t ask, though, he just waits for Ten to take his spot next to Doyoung, then deposits himself happily on the floor in front of them, back against Ten’s legs.

As soon as everyone is seated, Jaehyun and Taeil pass out the food and chopsticks, Ten drapes his legs unceremoniously across Doyoung’s lap, and someone starts the movie. As much as Doyoung had fought for his right to choose the movie this time, he didn’t want to choose something the others would hate (or that Jaehyun would judge him for), so he had settled on a group favorite. The only sound in the room is stirring and quiet chewing as the opening credits to  _ Train to Busan _ flash across the screen.

“Oh, good choice,” Jaehyun commends as soon as he recognizes the film. “I love Gong Yoo.”

Doyoung frowns down at his chicken, the container balanced on Ten’s shins. He must stab at a piece of chicken a little too hard, because Ten wiggles his legs, jostling the box, and complains, “Hey, easy. I felt that.”

“Sorry,” Doyoung mumbles. He shoves a piece of chicken into his mouth and refocuses on the movie, determinedly ignoring the back of Jaehyun’s head mere inches from his right knee. Once Gong Yoo shows up on the screen, though, Jaehyun lets out an audible sigh and Doyoung’s concentration is shot. Ten pats the top of his head in agreement and Jaehyun tips it back to grin at him, and Doyoung aggressively chews his food, staring straight ahead at the screen without seeing a thing. 

Time passes in such a distracted haze that Doyoung doesn’t realize he’s finished his food until his chopsticks scrape bottom and he looks down to find nothing more than a smear of sauce and some green onion slices. He frowns at the empty box for a moment, then drops his chopsticks into it and leans over Ten’s legs to set it on the table. His fingertips accidentally brush across Jaehyun’s shoulder as he shifts back and Doyoung is about to jerk his hand away, but Jaehyun leans into the touch without a second thought and Doyoung’s stomach bottoms out. 

Suddenly nauseous, Doyoung mumbles something unintelligible to Ten as he moves his legs off his lap and climbs gracelessly over the back of the sofa so he doesn’t disturb anyone’s view. He just needs to wash his face and breathe some of the fresh air filtering in through his bedroom window. Just for a minute. 

It’s quiet in Doyoung’s room, the sound of the movie muffled by his closed door. Campus is still mostly deserted, as classes don’t start until Wednesday, so the quad is only dotted with a few returning students here and there, some perched on benches despite the cold, some toting bags and boxes from parking lot to dorm. Doyoung takes a minute to lean against the edge of the window and stare out into the night. The brittle winter grass looks almost black in the darkness, the lawn a gaping void where the ground should be, relieved only by the pale white of benches and the slim trunks of bare trees, their spindly, leafless branches reaching up toward the dark sky.

Doyoung closes his eyes for a moment, relishing the quiet, but all he sees against the backs of his eyelids is the top of Jaehyun’s head, hair so glossy the lights from the TV reflect off of it. His face as he looked up at Ten and they silently bonded over Gong Yoo’s handsome face. It’s funny, Doyoung thinks as he opens his eyes again, watches a squirrel scurry up the narrow trunk of a tree just below. He’s spent the last two months bored out of his mind, contemplating Jaehyun’s number in his phone and wishing he was back here with his friends, but now that he is, he just. Needs a few moments of peace. He wishes his heart would make up its mind. 

Already feeling a little better, Doyoung strips out of his jeans and pulls out a pair of worn sweatpants, fighting off a shiver as a weak, frigid breeze filters through the window and hits his bare legs before he can tug on the pants. Warmer and more comfortable now, Doyoung crosses his room to the bathroom and switches on the light, turns to stare at himself in the mirror. There’s a little bit of sauce at the corner of his mouth and his eyes are wide and dark, a sharp contrast against his winter-pale skin. He grimaces at himself before slipping on a headband to pin his hair back while he washes his face. 

The familiar, repetitive motion of scrubbing gently at his skin calms Doyoung even more, so that by the time he has rinsed off, he feels okay with the prospect of re-joining the group in the living room, Jaehyun included, and getting back into the movie. Refreshed, Doyoung pats his face dry, then removes the headband and smooths his hair down, eyeing himself critically in the mirror. He’s got a small cowlick in the back, but without styling product, that’s as good as it’s gonna get. 

With one last glance at his reflection, Doyoung opens the door, one hand on the light switch, and stops short. For some reason, he’s not surprised to find Jaehyun standing in the center of his room, a hesitant smile on his face. 

“Sorry to intrude,” he says quietly. His hands are hanging awkwardly at his sides and Doyoung can see him drumming his fingertips against his thighs. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Doyoung presses his lips together, but steps out of the bathroom and waves a hand at the doorway. Jaehyun murmurs a thank you as he passes, and Doyoung just stands there as he shuts the door, a bit confused. Why his room? There’s an easily accessible bathroom between the other two bedrooms, the door is  _ in  _ the common area. Whatever.

Not wanting to listen to whatever it is Jaehyun is doing in there but hesitant to leave him alone in his room, Doyoung tries to find something to putter with while he waits for Jaehyun to finish. He had just rearranged his desk earlier that afternoon, but dragging the items around the surface of the table provides something akin to white noise, so he reconsiders the arrangement a few times, trying out different placements for his lamp and paper organizer and pencil holder. In the end, it all ends up right back where it had started, but as he slides the wire basket holding all of his binder clips back into its place, he hears the sink switch on. Perfect timing. 

Suddenly nervous, Doyoung moves out from under his lofted bed and waits. Fidgets. Sits at his desk, then stands, toes stacked awkwardly on top of each other. He ends up switching positions again right before Jaehyun opens the door, shoulder leaned casually against the brace holding up his bed and one hand out as he pretends to examine his nails. He feels like an idiot. 

Jaehyun stops in the doorway, like he hadn’t expected Doyoung to still be there. He looks a little flustered to find him there, but Doyoung tries to ignore the faint blush staining his cheeks. It’s not cute.

“Um,” Jaehyun says eloquently. “Thank you.”

Doyoung nods. Instead of leaving, like Doyoung expects him to, Jaehyun shuffles sideways out of the doorway and leans one shoulder against the wall, hands tucked into the pouch of his hoodie. Doyoung isn’t sure why they’re still standing in here, wonders if Ten has noticed that they’re both missing. He should usher Jaehyun back out into the common area immediately, before he gets too comfortable. 

He eyes the door, trying to think of a way to suggest that Jaehyun leave without sounding rude, but Jaehyun’s soft voice breaks the silence before Doyoung can. “So, how was your break? I kind of missed you, you know. I guess I got used to our study sessions.” 

Doyoung’s eyes snap to Jaehyun’s. The lights from the bathroom are shining in Jaehyun’s hair, making it look impossibly soft, and his expression is open and friendly. There’s something hopeful in the glimmer of Jaehyun’s eyes, the soft tilt to his mouth. It makes something sharp twist in Doyoung’s gut.

Without having made a conscious decision to move, Doyoung finds himself crossing the small space between them, not stopping until he’s toe to toe with Jaehyun. He doesn’t say a word, just pushes Jaehyun back against the wall with hands on his hips, swallows the sound he makes with a kiss that escalates from just a press of lips to Jaehyun sucking on his tongue so quickly, Doyoung’s head spins.

Need burns in his gut, sudden and overwhelming. He wrenches himself away, hands still pinning Jaehyun to the wall, and rasps, “I need you to stay quiet.”

Jaehyun stares at him, eyes wide and uncomprehending, until, without another word, Doyoung drops to his knees. 

“Oh my god,” Jaehyun wheezes when Doyoung slides one hand around to the front of his pants. He’s already more than half hard, hot against Doyoung’s palm even through layers of clothes, and Doyoung raises an eyebrow at him. “I promise I just wanted to use your bathroom,” Jaehyun rushes to say, biting his lip when Doyoung grinds the heel of his palm against him. “I just - you -“

Doyoung stares up at him through his fringe, waiting, but Jaehyun gives up and lets his head fall back against the wall as he presses his hips forward, seeking more pressure. This is not Doyoung’s end goal, though, so he drops his hand, ducking his head to hide a smile when Jaehyun whines pitifully. He fights the smile down, not quite sure he’s successful, so he can look up and warn Jaehyun, “Don’t forget to keep quiet. Everyone is out there.”

He thumbs over his shoulder at his bedroom door, which he realizes now is unlocked, but he doesn’t want to move. If he does, even to do something as simple and finalizing as lock the door, he knows he’ll back down, won’t follow through. So he just crosses his fingers that no one comes looking for them, then hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Jaehyun’s sweats and underwear and tugs them both down around his ankles in one swift move. 

Jaehyun shivers as the cool air of the room hits him, but Doyoung doesn’t make him wait in the cold for long. He uses one hand to push the hem of Jaehyun’s hoodie up over his stomach, then lifts the other to grasp him, only pauses at the last second when it occurs to him that maybe he should  _ ask  _ if Jaehyun is okay with this. Judging by the very hard dick right in front of his face and the way Jaehyun’s breathing is already labored, he thinks the answer is going to be a resounding yes, but he wants to be sure. 

Jaehyun’s eyes are squeezed shut, his lips gnawed on, cheeks already flushed a hectic red when Doyoung looks up, and something warm bursts open in his chest. His voice is embarrassingly soft when he whispers, “Jaehyun.” He has to repeat himself a few times before Jaehyun hears him. When he looks down at Doyoung, his eyes are wide and a little bit glassy. Doyoung can’t believe this is all it takes to get him this riled up. Glancing meaningfully between his hand, still paused in mid-air, and Jaehyun’s dick, Doyoung asks, “Is this okay?”

The choking sound Jaehyun makes has concern turning the corners of Doyoung’s mouth down, but before he can scoot back and give him space, Jaehyun gasps, “ _ Yes _ , please - yes.”

Satisfied, Doyoung nods once. Jaehyun is watching him, eyes locked on Doyoung’s as he wraps his hand firmly around the base of his dick. Jaehyun’s stomach jumps under his palm when he touches him, and it makes Doyoung inordinately pleased. Maintaining eye contact, Doyoung parts his lips, then ducks his head so he can lick up the underside of his cock. Jaehyun lets out a shuddering sigh and Doyoung has to pause to shush him, but the gust of air over his damp skin just makes him shiver and whine. 

When Doyoung hisses Jaehyun’s name, he just nods and claps a hand over his own mouth. Hopeful that that will do the trick and absolutely not acknowledging how hot it is, Doyoung refocuses on the matter at hand. In hand. Jaehyun’s dick is long and hard against his palm, the head flushed dark red and tempting, and excitement simmers in Doyoung’s veins as he leans in and wraps his lips around him, tongues at the slit. It’s been a while, but he hasn’t forgotten how much he enjoys this. 

All Doyoung is doing is licking over the head of his cock, but Jaehyun is already squirming a little, hips working in restless, aborted thrusts. His free hand is resting flat against the wall in Doyoung’s peripheral vision, his pretty fingers splayed wide against the plaster, and Doyoung knows what he wants now. He sinks down on Jaehyun’s cock, tongue curled along the underside, and lets go with his hand so he can grasp Jaehyun’s and direct it toward his head, curl his trembling fingers down into his hair. He can hear Jaehyun’s gasp when he does that, satisfaction burning in his gut at the way Jaehyun’s hand shakes as he presses his palm gently against the side of Doyoung’s head, his touch reverent. Doyoung grasps the base of his cock again, steadying him so he can pull off with an obscene slurping noise and suck at the head.

Jaehyun’s fingers flex against Doyoung’s scalp, fingernails scratching at him and sending shivers down his spine. Not wanting to drag this out, considering how long they’ve already been gone, Doyoung taps Jaehyun’s hip to get his attention and tries to convey that he wants Jaehyun to set the pace by pointing at him, then his own mouth and his hair, then back at Jaehyun’s hips. He thinks he’s made his point quite clear, but Jaehyun seems confused, eyes glazed over, chest heaving, so Doyoung pulls off so he can rasp, short and to the point, “Fuck my mouth.”

Jaehyun's’ mouth falls open and he breathes, “Fuck.” 

Doyoung nods. That’s the idea. He opens his mouth and leans in so the head of Jaehyun’s cock is resting on his tongue, then waits. 

Swallowing audibly, Jaehyun drops the hand that had been covering his mouth and settles it on Doyoung’s head alongside his other hand. He takes a moment to card his fingers through Doyoung’s hair, touch gentle and affectionate to match the expression on his face, and Doyoung’s stomach twists with a combination of nerves and something unfamiliar that he doesn’t care to examine too closely. Then, as if a switch has been flipped, Jaehyun’s eyes shutter and he curls his hands into fists in Doyoung’s hair, pumps his hips so his cock slides along the flat of Doyoung’s tongue in shallow thrusts. It’s a decent start, has the flush on Jaehyun’s cheeks spreading down his neck and his breaths coming in shallow bursts, but Doyoung wants more. He grips Jaehyun’s hips with both hands, fingertips digging into his soft skin, and urges him forward, tilting his head back so Jaehyun’s dick slides easily toward the back of his throat and he can look up at him, watch Jaehyun’s face as he watches his own cock disappear between Doyoung’s lips.

He seems to get the message. Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Jaehyun works Doyoung harder, pushing deeper with each thrust. Doyoung feels one of Jaehyun’s hands slide around to cup the side of his face, thumb resting against the corner of his mouth so he can feel the way his cock is sliding in and out, and it makes something molten and hot pool in Doyoung’s gut. His eyelids flutter and Doyoung lets out a weak, shivery moan when a thrust has the head of Jaehyun’s cock nudging the back of his throat, but he concentrates on keeping his eyes open so he can watch Jaehyun, tries to relax his throat and draw him in again with an encouraging press of hands against his hips. 

He can really taste Jaehyun now, can feel the slick slide of precome coating his tongue, can feel the way Jaehyun is trembling all over. His jaw is starting to ache a little, but in the best way. He really wants Jaehyun to come though, concerned with how long they’ve been gone and Ten’s curiosity. He also kind of just wants Jaehyun to come so he can see the look on his face, wants to be the one who made that happen. So he pulls off, smiling a little at the vague noise of protest Jaehyun makes, and rasps, “Come on, Jaehyunnie. Harder.”

Jaehyun’s mouth drops open, but he nods in understanding, fingers clenching and unclenching in Doyoung’s hair as he repositions himself and waits, mouth open.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun breathes, eyes on Doyoung’s face. He presses a thumb to the center of Doyoung’s bottom lip and Doyoung slips his tongue out to meet it then drags his teeth against the pad of his thumb, pleased with the little shiver it produces. “You look...”

He pauses, like he’s searching for the right words, but Doyoung doesn’t wait for him to finish. He just nudges Jaehyun’s hand out of the way, leans in, and takes Jaehyun back into his mouth, lips tight around him as he sinks right down as far as he can go. He moans when he feels the head of Jaehyun’s cock hit the back of his throat again, and Jaehyun shudders above him, more precome sliding down his throat. This time, Jaehyun doesn’t go easy on him. He grasps Doyoung’s hair and holds him still, fucking into his mouth desperately now, deep, rolling thrusts that have his cock nudging insistently against the back of Doyoung’s throat before he draws almost all the way out. Doyoung clamps his lips down around the head of his cock immediately, sucking hard and tonguing at the slit until Jaehyun’s fingers are scrabbling against his scalp and he’s moaning Doyoung’s name, praise and a warning all in one. 

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun wheezes, letting go of his hair so he can cup his cheeks. “Doyoung, I’m -“

Doyoung looks up at him through his lashes, cuts him off with a pinch to his hip, then gently places his hands back on his head. Jaehyun lets out a rumbled flurry of curses, but his fingers curl down into his hair again anyway and he presses back in, just a few unsteady thrusts before he lets out a stifled, shaky gasp and his cock pulses against Doyoung’s tongue as he comes. Humming encouragement, Doyoung swallows around him, waits until Jaehyun’s grip on his hair goes slack and he collapses back against the wall before pulling off. 

Still on his knees, Doyoung waits a minute to make sure Jaehyun isn’t going to fall over. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles over Jaehyun’s hips, eyes on Jaehyun’s face as his flush slowly starts to recede. It takes another minute before he can force his eyes open, but when he does, a bashful smile spreads across his face and he scuffs a hand through his hair in an endearingly boyish move that tugs at something in Doyoung’s chest. He viciously squashes it down as he pulls Jaehyun’s pants back up and the hem of his sweater back down, smoothing the soft material over his stomach. His knees ache as he rises to his feet, but it feels good, like the kind of ache after a solid workout. 

Considering the fact that he just fucked Doyoung’s mouth and came down his throat, it amuses Doyoung greatly when Jaehyun offers him a shy little smile and asks, reaching for the hem of Doyoung’s sweater, “Can I...?”

Doyoung wants him to, he really does, but they’ve been gone far too long. So, regretfully, he takes a step back and shakes his head. Jaehyun looks so disappointed that Doyoung can’t help the little laugh that slips out. Still determinedly keeping his distance from Jaehyun’s wandering hands, no matter how much he pouts, Doyoung promises, “Next time. You need to get back out there before Ten comes looking for us.”

Jaehyun frowns and looks like he’s about to protest, but Doyoung fits his hands around his hips and guides him forcefully toward the door. He needs Jaehyun out of here, panic starting to set in now that he’s no longer in the heat of the moment.

“Go,” he instructs. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. If Ten asks, tell him I had a headache and you were helping me finding the Advil, or something.”

Despite still looking like he wants to argue the point, Jaehyun nods and lets Doyoung push him out the door. Once he’s got the door shut again, Doyoung collapses against it, hands pressed over his face, heart racing triple-time in his chest. 

_ Next time _ ?

;;

Over the next two days, Doyoung determinedly does  _ not _ think about what had occured on Sunday night. Instead, he keeps himself busy as he maps out his schedule, sets alarms, and does all of the preliminary readings for his courses. He’s pretty excited for his elective this time -  _ not _ tennis, thank you - but prep for one of his required technical courses takes nearly all of his day on Tuesday because it includes two chapters of reading and a hellish preliminary exam that Doyoung can only take in one of the campus libraries. He has never regretted his decision to major in civil engineering more than he does as he sits in an empty computer lab on his last day of winter holidays, hunched over a keyboard and trying desperately to remember what the third law of thermodynamics states.

It’s harder to ignore what happened when he’s finished with his work for the day and relaxing in his room, so Doyoung spends as much time as he can out in the common area or in Ten and Taeil’s room, seeking out every possible distraction. He makes it work. Mostly.

Classes start on Wednesday without too much thoroughfare. Doyoung’s first course is calculus, a breeze for him, followed by a Materials of Construction course that bores him to tears, but is required nonetheless. Noteworthy has its first post-break meeting that night, just a casual thing where they sit in a circle on the practice room floor and talk about their holidays, then debate how long of a slot they want to ask for at the end of year music department concert. At one point, Donghyuck and Jaemin get into a silly, drawn out argument over the merits of opening the show versus closing it, and Doyoung ends up having to forcefully change the subject and seat them on opposite sides of the room from each other. It takes a while for conversation to return to normal because Donghyuck keeps making faces at Jaemin and Jeno won’t stop laughing, and Doyoung finds himself questioning his life choices as he forces Hyuck to sit with his back to the room, like a child in time-out. He’s missed them all terribly, even Donghyuck and his love for riling people up.

Thursday is the exciting day, though. He just has to get through Principles of Thermodynamics at the ungodly hour of 8 o’clock in the morning, and then he gets to spend the rest of his day in an ecology elective. The prospect of one hour of lecture, a break for lunch, and then three hours of field-based lab propels Doyoung out of bed at a bleary 6:30am, the rest of the suite still and quiet around him. He takes a hot shower to wake himself up, makes a quick breakfast, then finds his way to the lecture hall for thermodynamics and types his way through the surprisingly interesting introductory lecture.

The walk to the ecology building from engineering is nice. It’s still quite cold out for the beginning of March, the grass brittle and dry under his feet, but the sun is shining, staving off just a bit of the end of winter bite, and the campus is pretty. Most of the trees are still bare, but in just a few short weeks, their branches will be heavy with cherry blossoms and he’ll be walking to class on a pink carpet.

Despite the early hour, Doyoung is not the first to arrive at his ecology lecture. He frowns as he approaches the first row, confused as to why there is someone already sitting in one of the center seats. There are still thirty minutes until the class starts, Doyoung was certain he would have his pick. When he rounds the end of the row and catches sight of the person’s side profile where they’re bent over the desk, nose nearly touching the screen of their phone as they drag their finger across it in strange patterns, he stops, mouth dropping open.

“Are you serious?”

The question slips out without him having really meant to say it aloud, but it’s too late to take it back. They’re the only two people in the room, there’s no one else around to throw under the bus or pretend to be talking to. Doyoung spends about 15 seconds contemplating ducking down behind the row of seats, but then the person is lifting their head and -

“Doyoung?”

Resigning himself to the fact that this is happening, Doyoung sighs and approaches him, dropping reluctantly into the seat beside him. “Really?” He asks. “Of all the science electives available, you chose this one?”

Jaehyun just shrugs, grinning now. Up close, Doyoung can see that he had been playing some sort of game on his phone that involved drawing what he  _ thinks _ is a lizard. It’s pink. Strange.

“This one sounded the most interesting and it had awesome reviews. I think we get to go play in the mud and there’s a camping trip in May.”

Doyoung snorts. He’s not going to admit to Jaehyun that that’s the exact reason he chose the course, too. Instead, he asks, “Why are you here so early and why  _ this _ seat?”

Jaehyun peers around at the empty room, then shrugs again. “There isn’t really enough time between my first class and this one to go anywhere, it takes too long to walk here from engineering. And you inspired me to sit up here. This course is supposed to be pretty easy, but I still want to do well.” There’s a brief pause, then Jaehyun adds, grinning shamelessly, “Plus, I read online that the professor kind of looks like Gong Yoo.”

Doyoung doesn’t respond for a minute while he tries to process that answer. He had inspired Jaehyun. What the fuck. And  _ fuck _ Gong Yoo. Doyoung sends a mental apology to the actor, who he’s sure is a lovely person. He’s just really tired of hearing about him and his stupid, handsome face.

Grumpy now, Doyoung sits back in his chair and kicks his legs out in front of him, ready to pass the next twenty minutes in broody silence. He gets about three of them while Jaehyun finishes up his ambiguous lizard drawing, but then he’s locking his phone screen and turning in his seat to face Doyoung, and Doyoung tries his hardest not to sigh.

“Hey, which lab section are you in?”

Wiggling around in his seat, Doyoung tugs his schedule out of his pocket and squints at the tiny letters next to the course number. “2A? It starts at two.” Doyoung has a sneaking suspicion that he knows the answer already, because his luck just works that way, but he asks anyway. “Which section are you in?”

“I also start at two, but I think there are like three sessions going on at a time.” Jaehyun pulls his schedule up on his phone, looks at it for a moment, then tilts the screen toward Doyoung with a grin and says, “Hey, looks like we’re going to be lab partners.”

Doyoung scoffs. “What makes you think I want to work with you? There are going to be ten other people in that class, maybe I want to work with one of them.”

Jaehyun just shrugs and leans back, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. “That’s fine, but you’re not going to find a better partner than me. I know you think you hate me, or whatever, but we work pretty well together.”

Something cold and barbed squirms in Doyoung’s belly, scraping up his insides, and he shifts uncomfortably, protests, “I don’t  _ hate _ you -”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just the enemy, and there are rules,” Jaehyun intones, crooking his fingers in air quotes at the words enemy and rules. “Although I really don’t think you were thinking about acapella competitions when you had your mouth on my -”

Doyoung claps his hand over Jaehyun’s mouth so fast, he surprises himself. “Shut up,” Doyoung hisses, but there’s no one else around to hear them. He can feel heat rushing to his face, though, and his blood burns hot in his veins at the sudden onslaught of images from that night. He lets go of Jaehyun immediately, shrinking back in his seat. Jaehyun’s eyes are  _ sparkling _ as he watches Doyoung descend into a panic. 

Doyoung takes back his previous statement, he absolutely hates Jaehyun.

  
  


Despite what he had said while they waited for class to start, Doyoung does end up partnering with Jaehyun. As much as he still hates to admit it, Jaehyun is right, they really do work well together. Plus, he’s the only one in this class Doyoung knows, and Doyoung hates strangers. Also Jaehyun is pretty strong, and they’re going to have to carry a lot of sampling equipment. Whatever, it’s not like they have to share a tent for the camping weekend and there’s no studying involved in a field lab, so a repeat of Sunday night is not likely to happen. Thank god.

None of this stops Doyoung from complaining once he gets back to his dorm, though. Loudly and to anyone who will listen. 

“And he just  _ assumed _ I would work with him because we know each other. And did I mention he took my seat in the front row?”

“We know,” Ten drones, rolling his eyes at Taeil. “You’ve said this three times already.”

“In the last ten minutes,” Taeil pipes in.

“Maybe after the fourth time, we’ll actually start believing you’re upset about this,” Yuta says, smirking when Doyoung throws him a filthy look.

;;

Ecology lecture is fine. It’s easily his most interesting class this semester, and Jaehyun is right, the professor  _ does _ look like Gong Yoo. Honestly, though, as interesting as the subject matter is, that particular detail makes getting through the lecture part kind of difficult. No matter how he positions himself in his seat, Doyoung can see Jaehyun watching him from the corner of his eye, expression rapt as his gaze follows the professor around the front of the lecture hall. It’s irritating and terribly distracting, but Doyoung tries his hardest to focus and take excellent notes, because Jaehyun’s inevitably end up with gaping holes in random places.  _ If _ he and Jaehyun were friends, Doyoung would never let him forget how great of a friend he is by sending him his notes every week. But they’re not, of course. They’re... acquaintances, at best. He’s just lending Jaehyun his notes to try and pay him back for all of his help with fluid dynamics.

That minor Gong Yoo-shaped inconvenience aside, Doyoung  _ loves _ the ecology lab. The first few weeks are spent learning plant and mesofauna sampling techniques around campus and at nearby parks, and Doyoung finds it endlessly fascinating. They get to dig holes and collect leaves and blades of grass and whole flowers, and Jaehyun is kind of terrible at plant identification, but Doyoung finds that he has a knack for it. It feels good to be the teacher this time, he thinks smugly as he sits on the ground, the sun beating comfortably against his back, and shows Jaehyun the difference between three different species of grass and how the leaves from some of the nearby trees differ.

During the weeks of land-based sampling, their TA has them gather insects and worms and tiny dishes of meiofauna that they bring back to the lab and look at under microscopes, and they take plot samples, estimate cloud cover, measure ground temperature, moisture, and pH, and do soil analyses. Other groups squabble and miscount and have to repeat their surveys, but with Doyoung and Jaehyun, everything progresses smoothly and they consistently earn perfect scores on their reports.

The only time they have to redo any data collection is in early April, when they start learning aquatic sampling techniques at a nearby pond. They’re using a secchi disk to measure turbidity for the first time, which was easy enough when the TA was demonstrating in a bucket, but as Jaehyun leans over the side of the row boat to read the depth, his foot slides in a small patch of water in the bottom of the boat and he tumbles right over the edge with a small splash. It takes Doyoung a moment to realize what’s just happened, but when Jaehyun splutters to the surface of the pond, spitting water out of his mouth and shoving his sodden hair out of his face, he bursts into hysterical laughter, startling another team sampling nearby.

It takes several minutes for Doyoung to haul him back onto the boat because he can’t stop doubling over with laughter, and every time he thinks he can manage pulling him back in, Jaehyun’s hands are so slippery that he just slides right back into the water and Doyoung starts to giggle all over again. They manage it eventually, though, just barely getting Jaehyun back onto the boat without tipping the whole thing over. Giggles still keep slipping out whenever Doyoung looks at Jaehyun and there are tear tracks down his cheeks, but his amusement is short-lived when Jaehyun lunges unexpectedly, tackling Doyoung to the bottom of the boat and soaking him through as he clings to him like a koala.

Doyoung screeches and wiggles around, trying desperately to escape, but it’s futile. The damage is done, his clothes are dripping and his hair is ruined and the entire class is laughing at him as he struggles out of Jaehyun’s grip and onto one of the boat’s benches, panting. He waits until Jaehyun has gathered himself and settled on the other bench before grabbing the clipboard they’ve been using for data collection and thwacking him over the shoulder with it.

“Hey!” Jaehyun holds a hand up, warding off another smack. “Don’t do that, we need that data!”

“What data!” Doyoung fumes, holding up the clipboard. He wouldn’t be mad if it had just been him that Jaehyun had soaked, but the papers clipped to the board are sopping wet, ink smudged and illegible. “If you hadn’t tried to exact your revenge on me, we wouldn’t have to start over.”

Jaehyun holds his hands up, palms out, in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the board was on the floor, I was just trying to have a little fun.” He grimaces, looking down at himself. “To be fair, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had done that to you or not. I fell into the bottom of the boat when you pulled me back in, anyway, so it was doomed from the start.”

Doyoung just groans and buries his face in his hands. They don’t have enough time to redo everything today, they’re just going to have to collect the raw data and fill everything else in on their own time. They rush through the collection after that and, somehow, miraculously manage to squeeze everything in just in time.

“Okay,” Jaehyun sighs, running the hoodie he had left on the bank of the pond through his wet hair before offering it to Doyoung. “Can you come over after practice tonight? We can finish filling out the packet before we forget everything.”

“I guess so,” Doyoung mumbles, looking down at the damp sweater in his hands, not quite sure what he’s supposed to be doing with it. He had been planning to go out for pho with Yuta tonight, but he’ll just have to reschedule. Shoving the sweater back into Jaehyun’s arms, he grumbles, “You owe me pho, though.”

Jaehyun looks a little confused, but he just nods in agreement.

Their TA makes both of them sit on plastic bags for the drive back to campus, and they get weird stares as they trek back to the dorms, Jaehyun’s shoes leaving wet prints every time he steps down. At least it’s not cold out anymore, Doyoung reasons, struggling to hold onto his irritation as he climbs the stairs behind Jaehyun and watches water drip from the hem of his shirt. He did get the worst of it, and now Doyoung gets two pho dinners. Who knows, maybe this story will be funny after enough time has passed. A lot of time, he muses, looking down at his own damp pants clinging uncomfortably to his legs. He doesn’t pause at Jaehyun’s door, just offers him a short wave and continues to his own room, desperate for a shower.

Sicheng is sitting at the kitchen table with three books spread out in front of him when he throws the door open, and he stares at Doyoung, eyes wide, as he toes his shoes off and rolls the hems of his pants up so they don’t drag damp across the carpet on the way to his room.

“What happened to you?” Sicheng sets his pencil down carefully, marking his spot in what looks like a Chinese-Korean dictionary.

“Jaehyun,” is all Doyoung says, tone dark, and he scowls when Sicheng just laughs. He whines, “It’s not funny.”

“You complain, but one day you two are going to announce that you’re getting married and none of us will be surprised.”

Doyoung’s stomach clenches uncomfortably at the thought and he puts tremendous effort into his sneer, noting Sicheng’s satisfied expression. “Never.”

  
  


“Okay,” Doyoung starts loudly, and the chatter dies out. He’s all showered and clean now, feeling refreshed and excited for what they’re about to discuss. Plus, Jaehyun had texted him a few minutes ago asking him what type of pho he wanted. All in all, not such a bad night, so Doyoung is smiling when he announces, “So I signed us up for the end of term concert the music department always holds and they haven’t gotten back to me yet, but I think we should expect twenty minutes on stage. We’ve been discussing different medleys and practicing a few of them, so we need to decide which ones we want to use and how to fill that time.”

No one says anything, which Doyoung finds odd. Usually they’re all full of opinions, Donghyuck especially, but tonight they’re all glancing between him and Ten, like they’re expecting something.

Confused, Doyoung asks, “What?”

Ten clears his throat, cheeks flushing a light pink, and oh no. Doyoung has a bad feeling about this. “So, about our set list...” Ten starts. “I agree that we should assume twenty minutes and I love all of your ideas. It’s just...”

“What did you do?” Doyoung sighs, already bracing himself for an impending headache. So much for his good mood. He hopes Jaehyun lights one of his soothing candles when he goes over there later.

Ten has the grace to look guilty when he admits, “I signed us up for a one song collab.”

Doyoung blinks at him, uncomprehending. “A what?”

“A collaboration, you know, when two artists work together -”

Doyoung waves a hand through the air, interrupting, “No, I know what a collaboration is, I just mean  _ what _ ? We’ve never collaborated with anyone, who...”

He trails off as realization starts to hit him. Oh, no. 

“Oh, no. Ten, tell me -”

“It’s a good idea!” Ten insist, crawling forward to grab Doyoung’s hands. “Think of how good we’ll all sound together, with our beatboxers and Jaehyun’s rappers. Johnny thought it was a great idea, and when he told Jaehyun, he was so excited. Not everyone has to participate if they don’t want to, but it’ll be fun.”

Doyoung’s eyes narrow at the mention of Johnny, but before he can say anything, the rest of Ten’s sentence catches up with him. “Wait, Jaehyun knows? Why hasn’t he said anything?”

“We told him not to until it was too late to back out,” Ten admits, grimacing like he knows - he  _ knows _ \- he’s done something bad. “He actually didn’t want to keep it from you...”

Doyoung is tired.

“How did you even get to the sign-ups?” He asks, resigned. 

“Well, as vice president I have the right to the lists, the music department let me see them.”

“You’re fired,” Doyoung scowls. “Demoted. Donghyuck -”

“I accept,” Donghyuck says immediately, with a demonic grin. 

Doyoung shakes his head vehemently, horrified at the very thought. “Absolutely not. Yuta is the new VP.  I just need you to go get Jaehyun from their practice room.”

Silence falls over the room and everyone turns to stare at Doyoung, eyes wide with shock.

“ _ What _ ,” Doyoung grinds out, glaring at each one of them in turn.

“Rule number one.” Jeno reminds him gently. “No Acafellas in the practice room.”

Doyoung closes his eyes for a moment, silently mourning the one rule he has never broken. Then, with a sigh, he rolls his eyes to the ceiling and says, “Well, I think we’re going to have to make an exception now, considering.”

  
  


When Doyoung gets up to meet Jaehyun by the door, waving Donghyuck back to his seat, he hears someone whisper, “Well that’s rule number one officially down, how long before someone finds a reason to get rid of rule number two?”

“It won’t happen as long as Doyoung is president,” someone else mutters. “That’s his favorite rule.”

Doyoung feels heat rise to his cheeks, grateful for the fact that his back is to the room and that he has an excuse to look flustered right now. If anyone ever finds out about him and Jaehyun, he will never live this down. He’ll have to resign out of shame and change universities, leave Seoul altogether -

“Doyoung?”

“What?” Doyoung drags his attention back to Jaehyun, who’s staring at him in concern. Right, he had been trying to apologize and strategize. Doyoung shakes his head, trying to refocus and not stare at Jaehyun’s mouth or the way his collar bones keep peeking out from behind the collar of his very soft pink sweater.

Oh, Doyoung is fucked.

;;

The music department emails Doyoung confirmation of their twenty minute set and the one song collaboration the next day, and Doyoung spends a few indulgent minutes wondering how he would have reacted, had Ten not told him the previous day. He still kind of wants to strangle Ten, but he’s been doing a really great job at controlling himself, if he does say so himself.

All things considered, it’s a good thing he’s up before Ten in the morning and doesn’t have to see Jaehyun until their pre-arranged group meeting after dinner. By the time they leave for the music building, Doyoung is feeling marginally calmer about the whole thing, though he does allow himself the petty satisfaction of ignoring all of Ten’s attempts to draw him into conversation on their way to the practice room.

  
  


“So, I know you guys don’t dance -”

“We bop,” one of the newbies supplies helpfully, and Doyoung grins down at the papers he’s shuffling in his lap in an attempt to appear busy.

It had physically pained him to have any of the Acafellas in their practice room, Jaehyun included, so they’re all in Jaehyun’s room instead. It’s identical to their room, so Doyoung keeps wandering over to the desk without thinking about it, expecting to find his things on it but finding Jaehyun’s phone and wallet and notes on there instead. He’s miserable. Especially because Jaehyun is about to propose -

“How do you guys feel about covering  _ I Got a Boy _ by Girl’s Generation?”

There’s a drawn out pause as the Noteworthy members all stare at Jaehyun like they’re waiting for him to drop the punch line, but when he just looks back at them hopefully, they all break out into uncertain noises and worried glances.

It’s Donghyuck - of  _ course _ it’s Donghyuck - who first raises his hand and says, “ _ I Got a Boy _ sounds awesome. Are you going to teach us how to dance?”

“If you want me to,” Jaehyun nods, “but we could probably work out an arrangement where not everyone dances if they don’t want to.”

Raising his voice, Doyoung offers, “Or we could also just do  _ Perfect Man _ , and not have to worry about lowering registers or choreography.”

“No offense, but that sounds kind of predictable and boring.”

Doyoung just stares at Donghyuck for a minute and considers sacrificing him to the Acafellas. He seems to like them well enough, and Noteworthy would be fine with one less vocal. “How is that not offensive?”

“Okay!” Ten stands up, one hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder, and looks at Jaehyun. “Why don’t we just take a vote?”

Doyoung doesn’t like his odds, but it’s not up to him anymore. 

He watches despairingly as 14 of the 18 people present vote for Jaehyun’s idea. The other four vote for ‘other’, but when no one can come up with another alternative that isn’t  _ Perfect Man _ , the option is thrown out and they’re left with Girl’s Generation. When Yuta comes over to give him a consoling hug, Doyoung just stares down at his papers and wonders if maybe this is a message from the universe that he needs to learn to be a better person.

  
  


Noteworthy give up one practice night a week to work with the Acafellas, and to Doyoung’s dismay, everyone seems to be having a blast. His team takes to the choreography like they’ve been dancing their whole lives, and they all get along so well, they actually look forward to hours of grueling practice because it means water breaks spent laughing and goofing around with energy that seems to come from unlimited reserves. In fact, they get along so well that Doyoung finds himself pondering rule number two one day while he watches Ten giggle with Johnny in a corner of the room, eyes bright and happy as he recounts some story Doyoung has heard a hundred times and never found half as fascinating and amusing as Johnny seems to.

Two positives do come of this joint effort, though, Doyoung will admit. One is that, on the nights following choreography practice, Doyoung sleeps better than he ever has, his body like a leaden weight and pure, satisfying exhaustion dragging at his eyelids. The second is that he doesn’t have to work quite as hard at being unfriendly towards Jaehyun when Jaehyun is trying to force him to contort his body in unnatural ways and repeat tricky dance moves until Doyoung feels like he’s going to collapse. He can’t quite bring himself to be  _ mean _ to Jaehyun anymore, but curious eyes are always watching, and Doyoung can’t keep Sicheng’s ominous prediction out of his head, so he tries to muster up at least enough bite to keep even the suggestion of a budding friendship at bay.

Jaehyun is still so patient with him, offering him encouraging smiles and rubbing his back even while Doyoung is sneering at him. It makes Doyoung’s skin tingle and his face flush even more, and he hates that Yuta keeps giving him these  _ looks _ , like he knows exactly what’s going on. Yuta is just as touchy with Sicheng as Jaehyun is being with him, so he doesn’t see why Yuta should suspect anything.

;;

“The moon is so big tonight.”

“The moon is always the same size, Jaehyun,” Doyoung snaps, still mostly focused on the data sheet he’s filling out. They’re in the middle of a forest hours outside of Seoul with no cell phone reception, it’s been a really long day of data collecting, and Doyoung just wants to finish this sheet so he can go crawl into his sleeping bag and go to sleep.

There’s a brief pause, the only sounds the scratching of pen against paper and the nearby chirping of cicadas, then Jaehyun asks, voice mild, “Is sarcasm your default, or is it just when you’re with me?”

Doyoung pauses mid-word, pen still pressed to the paper. A small splotch of ink is growing out from the tip, but Doyoung doesn’t notice. Discomfort wriggles in his stomach at Jaehyun’s question, the casual way he had asked. Sarcasm is his default, and he has a reputation to uphold, especially when it comes to Jaehyun. He has been growing a bit softer with him, though, unable to maintain that sharp bite he used to have, back before he knew that Jaehyun’s kindness was inherent and unending, before he knew what Jaehyun tasted like and the exact sound he made when Doyoung kissed that one spot on his neck, just below his ear. Jaehyun has always been so unflinchingly polite, no matter what kind of mood Doyoung is in, has put up with his shit for months on end and has even, for some bizarre reason, chosen to spend  _ more _ time around him than necessary in asking him to be his lab partner. Doyoung grimaces at the packet under his hand.  

Ugh. It’s been harder and harder to keep up his public ‘rivalry’, if he’s honest, even around Ten and his bizarre Doyoung spidey senses. Jaehyun is just so nice and pretty and smart and Doyoung kind of, sort of actually really likes him, and maybe... Maybe he should just say screw it and drop the forced sarcasm and prickly veneer, even around Ten.  _ Maybe _ .

Uncomfortable, Doyoung looks up at Jaehyun, not sure if he’s expecting an actual answer. Jaehyun isn’t looking at him anymore, though. He has his head tilted back so he can stare up at the moon, just visible in a gap between tree branches overhead. Despite his question, asked not two minutes ago, Jaehyun looks peaceful and relaxed as he leans back on his palms, eyes heavy lidded, lights from the campfire flickering in his glossy hair. Doyoung doesn’t want to disturb that calm with a weak excuse, and he thinks Jaehyun meant it to be rhetorical, anyway.

With one last glance toward the sky, Doyoung goes back to filling out answers in the packet. Jaehyun is right, the moon is big tonight.

  
  


Doyoung stares up at the ceiling of the tent, fingers tap-tapping absently against his stomach. He had been tired while he’d been working on the packet, but now that he’s actually in the tent relaxing he’s suddenly wide awake, and he can feel the heat rolling off of Jaehyun where he’s laying beside him, reading something on his phone. There’s no reception out here in the middle of the forest, so Doyoung assumes he’s reading a book or something, rather than, like. Scrolling through instagram posts or exchanging texts with Johnny about how much of an asshole Doyoung is. Doyoung sniffs and shifts around on top of his sleeping bag, trying really hard not to look over at Jaehyun. It’s just - he had been really great today (he’s  _ always _ great, Doyoung’s brain supplies unhelpfully), and Doyoung kind of wants to tell him so, wants to apologize for how mean he can be when he’s tired or thinks people are paying attention, but he’s... embarrassed.

“What’s wrong,” Jaehyun says suddenly, not quite a question. He doesn’t look away from his phone, even when Doyoung turns his head on his pillow to look at him in surprise.

“Nothing?”

“You were fidgeting,” Jaehyun explains, turning to meet Doyoung’s eyes. He rolls onto his side so he can look at Doyoung more comfortably, sets his phone down on the tent floor so he can tuck a hand under his pillow. Reaching out with his other hand, he pokes Doyoung’s cheek and repeats, “What’s wrong?”

Doyoung sighs. “Nothing, really. I just...” He trails off, screwing his face up as he works up the courage to say what he wants to say. “Thank you. For today,” he clarifies, when Jaehyun makes a confused face. “Some of the other groups don’t seem to be getting along very well, but you’re always so helpful and accommodating, and I just. Wanted to say thank you.”

Jaehyun’s look of confusion only deepens the more Doyoung speaks. His voice is slow and unsure when he says, “You’re welcome? I’m only doing what I’m supposed to be doing, though. And you’re pretty instrumental to all of this, I’m not doing anything special on my own.”

Doyoung just blinks, stares at Jaehyun for a full minute while his mind clicks and whirrs, a messy, tangled loop of ‘what the fuck’ and ‘how is he real’. His chest feels oddly tight. Jaehyun just stares calmly back, unaware of Doyoung’s inner turmoil.

When Doyoung speaks again, his voice is low and rough, his brow furrowed as he asks, “Why have you put up with me for so long? You’re so  _ nice _ . I’ve been such an asshole and you could have been with anyone else. Someone who appreciated you from the first moment and didn’t go back to being an asshole right after he sucked your dick.” 

Jaehyun just shrugs, eyes sparkling as he inches closer to Doyoung. “I knew you would come around. I kind of grow on people. And you’re really cute when you think you’re being mean. Also,” he whispers, leaning up onto one elbow so he can look down at Doyoung with bright eyes and an even brighter smile, “you’re really good at sucking dick.”

An unexpected laugh bubbles out of Doyoung’s chest, forced out by the heavy thump-thump of his heart and the way his lungs are constricting, maybe. Doyoung kind of feels like he’s about to cry. Biting his lip, he reaches a hand out and fists it in the front of Jaehyun’s sweater, uses it to drag him over.

Jaehyun goes willingly, crawling right over Doyoung and bracing himself on his palms above him. Doyoung flattens his hands against Jaehyun’s chest, lips pressed together as he concentrates on the steady beat of Jaehyun’s heart under his fingers. When he looks up, he finds Jaehyun watching him, an unbearably tender expression on his face, and Doyoung sighs. Eyelids fluttering shut, he slides one hand around to the back of Jaehyun’s neck and draws him down into a kiss. 

The kiss is easy, soft and languid and sweet. There’s no heat behind it, just a steady thrum of affection and warmth, and Doyoung leans into it, curling his arms around Jaehyun’s neck to pull him closer. He hums in appreciation when Jaehyun settles on top of him, their legs slotting together comfortably. 

Doyoung loses track of how long they lay there, trading gentle, open-mouthed kisses, Doyoung’s fingers trailing up and down Jaehyun’s back and Jaehyun’s hands in Doyoung’s hair. The campgrounds are quiet around them, everyone else probably asleep since they have an early morning tomorrow, but Doyoung could do this for hours. When Jaehyun kisses down the side of his jaw to his neck, teeth scraping delicately against thin skin, Doyoung arches against him, and he nearly purrs when Jaehyun grasps his wrists so he can stretch his arms behind his head, fingertips trailing up the sensitive insides of his arms until their palms slide together and their fingers interlock.

They kiss like that, fingers linked and feet slipping against each other, until Doyoung can feel his eyelids getting heavy, kisses slowing until they’re barely more than Jaehyun rubbing their noses together and nuzzling against the crook of his neck. Doyoung lets out a satisfied sigh, lips pleasantly numb, when Jaehyun rolls off of him, then draws him in. It takes them a few minutes to find a comfortable position, but they finally settle, Doyoung’s back pressed to Jaehyun’s chest and their hands linked over his stomach. There’s still a lot to figure out, but Doyoung feels more content than he has in a long time. 

He’s asleep within minutes, a peaceful smile on his face.

;;

There isn’t long until the end of the semester, just a couple short weeks, but Doyoung finds himself wishing they had more time, and he says as much to Jaehyun one night. They’re supposed to be working on the big lab report that’s due in a few weeks, detailing all of their field research from the entire semester, but instead, Doyoung is stretched out on Jaehyun’s bed with Jaehyun half on top of him, head pillowed on his stomach while Doyoung plays absently with his hair.

“More time for the paper?” Jaehyun asks, not comprehending. Doyoung can feel the tips of his fingers dragging along the narrow strip of skin where the hem of his shirt is rucked up. He shivers.

“No, just in general. Break sucks, everyone goes away.”

“Doyoung...” Jaehyun props himself up on his elbows, hands folded across Doyoung’s belly. His thumbs are just brushing the edge of his jeans, trailing goosebumps in their wake. It’s distracting, and he has to focus very hard on Jaehyun’s face as he says, “You know I live in Seoul, right?”

Oh. He remembers Ten mentioning that now, actually. He’s about to say something, but Jaehyun slides the tip of a thumb under the waistband of his pants, and he forgets everything he had been thinking about. Suddenly it feels a lot warmer in the room, Jaehyun’s weight on top of him dizzying.

Slowly, Doyoung tries to drag his mind back down to Earth, asks, “You don’t go away for the break?”

“I mean, sometimes I go away for like a week?”

“Will you hang out with me?” Doyoung asks, pouting just a little. Seoul is so lonely without Ten, Yuta, and Sicheng, but Jaehyun might just make this summer bearable.

Jaehyun’s answer is a smile, so wide that little whiskers form on the sides of his nose and he’s so cute, Doyoung  _ aches _ . Jaehyun scrambles up the bed so he can drape himself over Doyoung and wrap his arms and legs around him, rolling them onto their sides. He leans in to nose at the side of Doyoung’s face, murmurs against his cheek, “I’m going to bother you so much this summer, Doyoung, you’re going to start hating me again.”

Doyoung just snorts and tips his head back, an invitation for Jaehyun to kiss his neck. When Jaehyun leans in, though, a picture he had been blocking with his head comes into focus, and Doyoung whines and twists away.

“Wait,” he complains, “let’s roll over, I want to face the other way.”

“What? Why?” Jaehyun lifts his head up so he can look down at Doyoung in confusion. His hair is a disaster from rolling around, tufts sticking straight up into the air.

Doyoung lets out a pitiful whine and buries his face in Jaehyun’s shoulder, embarrassed now, but Jaehyun just prods at him until he points wordlessly at the picture of him and Yukhei. Jaehyun pulls away from him so he can sit up and study the picture, looking for something that might bother Doyoung.

“What’s wrong with this picture?”

Doyoung just splays a hand over his face, trying to hide the way his cheeks have gone red, but when he mumbles, “I just hate it,” Jaehyun makes a soft ‘ahh’ of understanding, then he giggles and Doyoung wants to  _ die _ .

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun sighs, and the fondness in his voice is unbearable. He resists when Jaehyun tries to pry his hand away from his face, but Jaehyun is unfortunately stronger than he is. “Doyoung, Yukhei and Jungwoo have been together since they were like sixteen.” 

It takes a minute for Doyoung’s brain to process this information. “Oh.” Doyoung frowns, too focused on the photo and the news to realize that Jaehyun has pushed his shirt up over his stomach and is working on the button of his jeans. “So you’ve never...”

“I mean, we’ve all kissed Jungwoo because that’s just how he is, but it wasn’t, like. A  _ kiss _ .” He punctuates that statement with a kiss pressed to Doyoung’s lower belly. When he smiles up at Doyoung from that position, stretched out between his legs with a hand on his zipper, something white hot pulses through Doyoung’s veins and he nearly misses it when Jaehyun says, “It’s really cute that you were jealous.”

He’s thinking up a plausible denial, it’s right there on the tip of his tongue, but before he can say anything, Jaehyun tugs his jeans down over his hips and then Doyoung doesn’t think about anything at all.

;;

As much as Doyoung complains about having to collaborate with another group and learn choreography, he finds himself looking forward to the joint performance more than Noteworthy’s own set. It’s cheesy and Yuta calls him cute and pats the top of his head when he admits it, but the double sets, outfit changes, and the big collaboration make him feel like an idol performing at one of the year end song festivals.

The music department’s show doesn’t draw quite as many people as the winter showcase, but they’re closing the show with this stage and there are enough spectators in the auditorium by now that Doyoung feels nerves spark in the back of his throat at the thought of dancing in front of all of them. He’s trained hard, though, and Sicheng had even worked with him at home, so he thinks - hopes - that he’s ready. 

He tries to focus on only the people around him as they take their positions and the music starts up, rather than on the sea of faces staring up at them. Jaehyun had offered Jeno and Jaemin the rap intro, and they do so well, look so natural confident, that Doyoung feels a surge of pride as he watches from the back of the stage, waiting for their cue. As soon as the song itself starts, Doyoung feels his nerves melt away and instinct take over. His mind is blank, but his body remembers all of the moves and knows where he should be in relation to the members around him, and Doyoung is duly impressed with himself for it. 

It’s not a perfect performance, but no one falls or crashes into each other, and they get a standing ovation at the end. As soon as they get backstage, Yuta and Ten crash into him so hard that what little breath he still had is knocked out of him.

“That was amazing!” Ten yells directly in his ear. Doyoung tries to duck out of range of his shrieking, but there’s nowhere to go with Yuta on his other side, agreeing vehemently. “We have to do this again next year.”

They have to turn right back around to do their final bows with the other performers and Doyoung is hoping to shake Yuta and Ten in the crowd so he can breathe for five seconds, but they cling so closely to him that he doesn’t stand a chance. Once it’s all over, it’s a mad rush to get out of the auditorium and to fresh air, even through the stage entrance. Doyoung draws in deep lungfuls as soon as they make it outside, shakes his arms a little to try and dislodge his friends so they can walk home and shower off the performance grime.

“Stop trying to get away,” Ten whines. 

Doyoung squints down at the top of his head, suddenly suspicious. Before he can ask, though, Johnny stands on his tip toes, completely unnecessary considering he’s taller than everyone there, and says, “Alright, let’s go!”

“Go?” Doyoung asks, confused. “Go where?” The only place he wants to go is his shower, and then maybe Jaehyun’s bed. Johnny is leading them away from the dorms, though, toward the side of campus that faces a trendy little area with restaurants and bars, and Doyoung looks down at himself in horrified understanding. “Ten,” he says in as calm a voice as he can muster, “I cannot go out in public like this.”

“It’s just a bar,” Ten says, waving the hand not clutching Doyoung’s arm in a death grip.

“But I want to shower,” he whines pitifully. “I’m wearing  _ cargo pants _ .”

“You’re just going to get all sweaty again from dancing anyway! And it will be dark in there,” Ten reasons.

Doyoung’s response is automatic. “I’m not dancing.”

“Oh, yes you are,” Ten says with an evil little grin. Doyoung regrets ever letting Ten think that they were friends.

As expected of a bar this close to the university right after final exams have finished, the place is already crowded when they arrive. Even without the youngest members of the two groups, they’re too many people for one booth, but no one lets that deter them. Somehow, Doyoung ends up squashed between Yuta, who keeps turning his back to him so he can talk to Sicheng, and Jaehyun, who smells way too good for someone who just danced as hard as he did. 

Johnny and Ten take everyone’s drink orders, then disappear into the crowd, and Doyoung is left to stare at Jungwoo and Yukhei across from him, whispering to each other and holding hands on top of the table. He feels kind of silly, thinking about that picture in Jaehyun’s room. It’s so obvious to him now. Doyoung is so wrapped up in his thoughts that it startles him when a hand lands on his thigh. He looks up to find Jaehyun looking at him, a smile that is entirely too smug for Doyoung’s taste, and he knows he’s been caught and that Jaehyun knows exactly what he was thinking about.

Determined to ignore him and his stupid smug smile, Doyoung turns away from Jaehyun and leans across the table so he can talk to Kun. They’ve actually never spoken before, but he’s always smiling and looks super friendly, and Doyoung desperately needs a distraction from the way Jaehyun keeps dragging his hand higher on his thigh, fingernails catching along the inseam of his pants. He tries to subtly swat Jaehyun’s hand away, but Jaehyun just pulls him even closer on the bench so he can tug Doyoung’s knee up over his own. It gives Doyoung a bit of breathing room on his other side, where Yuta is radiating so much heat he’s started sweating a little, but Ten and Johnny will be returning any minute now and they’ll be able to  _ tell _ .

If Ten does notice when they arrive, more drinks in hand than Doyoung can count, he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even spare Doyoung a suspicious look as they pass all of the drinks out. It worries Doyoung. There’s no way he hasn’t noticed, what is he planning?

Feeling a little jittery, Doyoung tosses his drink back immediately, then grabs one of the spare drinks they brought and forces himself to nurse it while everyone else finishes theirs. He doesn’t want to get too far ahead. As they sit and talk, voices raised over the music and Jaehyun’s palm warm against his leg, Doyoung slowly starts to relax. He’s on his second spare drink, slumped back against the seat with his shoulder pressed comfortably against Jaehyun’s, when Ten gets up and demands that someone dance with him. Doyoung just waves as everyone gets up but him and Jaehyun, straw in his mouth as he happily works on his drink. 

“I’m giving you ten minutes,” Ten warns before he lets someone drag him away.

Doyoung has ample space to move around now, but he finds that he’s actually pretty comfortable where he is, and Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind. He leans in close, lips just brushing the shell of Doyoung’s ear, and asks, “Would you dance with me here?”

Doyoung fights off a shiver and tips his head to the side without thinking, a silent plea. When a kiss doesn’t come, Doyoung twists around so he can aim a small pout at Jaehyun. Jaehyun just jerks his chin toward the dance floor, though, says, “I can see everyone right over there. I don’t think you want them finding out that their president broke rule number two like this.”

There’s laughter in his voice, but Doyoung doesn’t find it very amusing. By some miracle of miracles, they have made it to the end of the semester and the music department concert without being found out. It’s actually taken some very careful planning and what Doyoung thinks is some truly impressive willpower on his part, but the semester is over, they’ve just completed an incredible stage, and Doyoung is tipsy and he wants to kiss Jaehyun  _ so badly _ that he doesn’t care where he does it anymore.

Maybe he’s had a few too many of these sugary drinks.

Tilting his head in what he hopes is an alluring way, Doyoung asks, “Come outside with me, then?”

Jaehyun studies him for a moment, his eyes bright in the dim room. “If you want to go outside, we can just go back to my dorm.”

“Okay,” Doyoung says immediately. “Yes.”

“Should we tell the others that we’re leaving?” Jaehyun peers over Doyoung’s shoulder, trying to spot them on the dance floor. 

“No, lets go.” Telling the others they’re leaving means questions Doyoung doesn’t want to answer. He grabs Jaehyun’s hand and scoots out of the booth, then heads straight for the front door, dragging Jaehyun along behind him.

It’s warm and sticky out, but their walk is short, and Doyoung is grateful for that. He can’t wait to get his hands on Jaehyun, and from the way Jaehyun is gripping his hip as he walks behind him, Doyoung is reasonably sure he feels the same. As the dorm comes into view, Doyoung thinks about all of the things he wants to do to Jaehyun, grateful for the supply of refreshments Jaehyun always keeps in his contraband refrigerator and the fact that neither of them has a plane to catch any time soon. He may have to say goodbye to his friends over facetime, but that’s just a sacrifice that has to be made.

  
  


There’s an alarm going off. 

There’s an alarm going off somewhere near Doyoung’s head, but that doesn’t make sense because it’s Saturday and classes are over, and - 

He slaps a hand out toward the offending noise and grabs his phone, holds it up to one bleary eye. There’s a name flashing across the screen, but it’s too blurry to make out what it says. Groaning a little, Doyoung struggles to sit up without jostling the bed too much and swipes his thumb across the screen.

“Hello?” His voice is rough with sleep. Sleep he wishes he was still enjoying.

“Doyoung?”

He winces and pulls the phone away from his ear so he can lower the volume. Ten’s voice is shrill, way too loud this early in the morning. He hums affirmation and shifts onto his side so he can look down at Jaehyun, still asleep beside him. He’s on his stomach, face buried in the pillow with the sheets bunched up around his waist and his long, smooth back on display for Doyoung’s sleepy, hungry eyes.

“Where the hell are you? You just disappeared last night. Did you go home with someone?”

Doyoung hums again and lifts his free hand to brush Jaehyun’s hair out of his face. There’s an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line, and then Ten is chastising, “You should have told someone. That’s dangerous, you should know better.”

Doyoung laughs, a soft burst of sound as he tries to be quiet so he doesn’t wake Jaehyun. “Sorry, mom. Don’t worry, I’m safe. I’m even still on campus.”

Ten scoffs and mumbles something under his breath, and Doyoung is about to ask him if he can go back to sleep when Ten asks, “Have you seen Jaehyun? He left, too, and he doesn’t have a roommate to check up on him. I worry. I know you hate him, but did you talk to him before either of you left?”

His stomach twists a little at Ten’s casual statement. Frowning, Doyoung cards his fingers through Jaehyun’s hair, drags a thumb down the curve of his jaw. His voice is barely more than a whisper when he says, “I don’t hate Jaehyun.”

“Excuse me?” Ten’s voice has gone shrill again. “Did I just hear you say you don’t hate Jaehyun?”

“Yes, I -”

Doyoung cuts off as a knock sounds on the door. Jaehyun stirs beside him, grumbling incoherently, and Doyoung thinks maybe he’ll get up to answer the door, but he just shifts closer so he can throw an arm across Doyoung’s lap and bury his head against his hip. Doyoung’s heart thumps unsteadily in his chest. He really doesn’t want to wake him, but he can’t exactly answer the door for him.

“Jae - oh.” Doyoung turns back to his phone, glad he caught himself before he let the whole name slip, and whispers, “Hey, Ten, can I call you back?”

“No! You still haven’t told me -”

Doyoung hangs up away and tosses his phone to the end of the bed, then smooths a hand down the slope of Jaehyun’s back. “Hey,” he murmurs, bending over so he can get close to Jaehyun’s ear. It’s an awkward angle, not quite flexible enough to be able to drag his lips across the curve of Jaehyun’s cheek the way he wants to, so he uses his fingertips instead. “Jaehyun, there’s someone at the door.”

As if on cue, the person knocks again, harder and louder. When Jaehyun groans this time, his whole body tenses and Doyoung knows he’s awake. There are pillow creases on his cheek when he sits up, his eyes puffy as he struggles to open them, and Doyoung’s throat goes tight when he smiles at him, lopsided and sweet, dimples flirting in his cheeks. No, he definitely does not hate Jaehyun.

“Morning,” Jaehyun mumbles. “Did you sleep well?”

“I would have liked to have slept longer,” Doyoung sighs, nodding toward the door. “Looks like we’re both in high demand this morning. I’ve already spoken to Ten. He asked about you.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, but just as he opens his mouth to ask for details, the person at the door knocks a third time and a muffled voice that sounds a lot like Ten calls, “Open up, I know you’re in there!”

Jaehyun curses and scrambles out of bed, suddenly wide awake. He searches frantically for a pair of pants, ends up tugging on a stray pair of sweats that Doyoung actually thinks are his, then pulls the door open just a crack, so Ten can’t see inside. It’s no use, though, because Ten wedges a hand in the door and forces it open before Doyoung can even think to hide. All he has time to do is yank the blanket up to his chin, but it doesn’t matter at this point. There aren’t many ways to interpret this scene, especially after their brief phone conversation.

“I knew it!” Ten trills, hands out so he can point at each of them in accusation. 

Jaehyun grimaces and looks at Doyoung apologetically, but Doyoung just sighs and waves a hand, indicating that Ten should commence with his rant. There’s nothing they can do about it now.

Instead of going off, though, Ten just stops and tilts his head to the side, glances back and forth between the two of them. “How long has this been going on?”

“Umm...” Jaehyun looks to Doyoung for help, but Doyoung just shrugs.

“Hard to say, it didn’t really start out as a... thing.”

“A week?” Ten asks. Doyoung shakes his head. “A month?  _ Two _ months? Three - oh my god.” Ten drops into Jaehyun’s desk chair, dramatic as always, and whines, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I thought we were  _ friends _ .”

Now Doyoung is terribly confused, and a quick glance at Jaehyun tells him he has no idea what’s happening, either. Sitting up, Doyoung asks, hesitant, “You’re not... mad?”

Ten rolls his eyes. “Why would I be mad? Doyoung, I don’t care who you...kiss.” He eyes Jaehyun’s bare chest and Doyoung’s shoulders peeking out from the top of the blankets. “That’s not true, I do care who you kiss, especially when it’s Jaehyun, but I don’t care  _ that _ it’s Jaehyun.” He pauses, face scrunched up in confusion, then asks, “Does that make sense?”

“But I broke -”

“I know, you made the rules, blah blab blah. You know none of us really follow them, right? Well, except the babies. They’re actually still kind of scared of you. It’s cute.”

Doyoung forgets what’s happening for a moment when he hears that, his hackles raising immediately. “What? What do you mean, you don’t follow them?”

“Oh, Doyoungie,” Ten sighs. Doyoung does not like the pity in Ten’s voice. “Johnny and I - well, we haven’t done anything  _ yet _ , but that’s happening. Soon. And I really don’t know how you haven’t realized that Yuta and Sicheng have been together literally the entire time we’ve been here, but that’s been happening for like three years.”

Doyoung blinks, uncomprehending. “They - what? Yuta and Sicheng are roommates...”

“Yes, Doyoung,” Ten says slowly, enunciating each syllable very clearly. He raises his eyebrows, wiggles them a little for emphasis when he says, “They’re  _ roommates _ .”

“But...” Doyoung turns to Jaehyun for backup, but one look at his face and he just knows. “You knew, too?”

Jaehyun glances between them, then says helplessly, “Well... yeah. I just kind of assumed they were an exception to the rule, since their relationship predated it? How did you not know?”

Doyoung pinches the bridge of his nose. It is too early in the morning, he’s running on about two hours of sleep, and he can already feel a headache coming on. “So everyone except me knew -“

“You know what,” Ten interrupts, “this isn’t about Yuta and Sicheng.  _ You _ .” He points at Doyoung, then at Jaehyun, eyes the two of them critically for a minute, then asks, “Is he nice to you?”

The question is aimed at Jaehyun, and Doyoung is  _ offended _ . Jaehyun just grins at him, bright and mischievous, and says, “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes!” Doyoung squawks, indignant. 

Giggling, Jaehyun bounds over to the bed and flops on top of Doyoung, pinning him down so he can pepper kisses to his cheeks, forehead, the tip of his nose. “It’s okay,” he reassures Doyoung and Ten between kisses. “It’s cute when he’s mean.”

There’s a sudden retching noise from over by Jaehyun’s desk and Ten mumbles, “I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.”

Frowning now, Jaehyun pauses and climbs off of Doyoung so he can sit up, back to the wall and legs draped across Doyoung’s lap. “I’ve never hated Doyoung.” He considers Doyoung for a moment, expression solemn, then says, “You know, if you had asked, I would have given that song to you. I didn’t know it was so important.”

Doyoung looks down at his lap, fingers twisting around each other. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation, especially not with Ten in the room. “It wasn’t,” he admits. “I was just mad that you beat me and that you performed the song so well. Better than we could have. I thought I hated you, but -“

“Doyoung is just a petty asshole,” Ten supplies helpfully. “And don’t let him butter you up, he totally hated you.” He stands up and puts his hand on the doorknob, eyes the two of them critically. “Okay, well I’m gonna go tell everyone now. You two go back to... you know what, I don’t want to know.”

To Doyoung, though, he mouths  _ tell me everything later _ . Then, with a wink, he’s gone. 

Hands over his face, Doyoung mumbles, “I’m sorry about him, I can’t take him anywhere. Or tell him anything.” He parts his fingers so he can peek at Jaehyun through them, try to gauge his mood. He just looks pensive.

“You know, it’s okay that you hated me. I mean, it kind of sucked at first because I was pretty into you for some reason, but it just became a funny thing after a while. And it was kind of fun to rile you up just by being friendly.”

Doyoung stares at Jaehyun for a minute, not sure if he’s hearing him correctly. “You - you annoyed me on purpose? Oh my god, I  _ knew  _ it, I knew you were targeting my friends just to get to me. And Ten said I was being crazy, I can’t believe - I have to go.”

He moves to get up, irritation at both Jaehyun and Ten surging through him, but Jaehyun lunges for him and rolls them until he’s laying on top of Doyoung. Doyoung struggles against him, but he’s too heavy. “Hey,” Jaehyun pouts, “why are you getting mad at me? You were mean to me for two years over a stupid song! And it’s not like I was being nice as part of some big ruse, I’m just a nice person by nature. You getting annoyed by that was just a bonus.” Jaehyun leans in to nuzzle Doyoung’s cheek, ignoring his grumble, and murmurs, “You just look so cute when you’re annoyed.”

All of the fight leaves Doyoung and he slumps back against the pillow with a sigh. “You’re so annoying.”

“You don’t mean that,” Jaehyun says with a grin. He drags his lips across Doyoung’s cheek, inching closer to his mouth. 

“I do,” Doyoung promises, but his hands are sliding up Jaehyun’s back, still bare, his skin soft and warm against his palms. He parts his legs so Jaehyun can settle between them, drags his nails across the backs of his shoulders. “In fact, I think I still hate you.”

“I can live with that,” Jaehyun whispers against the corner of Doyoung’s mouth, his lips curved up in a smile. He knows exactly what Doyoung means when he says the word hate. “I like you enough for the both of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE'S DONE! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read and for your comments and kudos, I appreciate every single one! ♡

**Author's Note:**

> Heldphk I love dojae and all of the fun possibilities for their dynamic, I hope you enjoyed this mess! Please let me know what you thought, this fic makes me far more nervous than my first fic yikes.
> 
> My personal twitter is [babietaeyong](https://twitter.com/babietaeyong), my writing twitter is [iambigbabyjeno](https://twitter.com/iambigbabyjeno) (very original thank you), and here is my [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/bigbabyjeno) if you want to come say hi~ thank you for reading!!


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